Thirteen Pounds

Maniac

2012-02-16T06:29:00.002-05:00

I am writing like a maniac. It is frustrating and crazed and exciting and fun. But alas, the end is in sight!

Kind of.

5 weeks post surgery

5 weeks post surgery I feel really good. I'm exercising again-- just the elliptical at half mast-- for a half hour per day-- but I feel good. I have been going out here an there, mostly for brief stretches, and my work schedule has been "normal" for awhile now. Only downside is driving, which I hate. The bumpy road irritates my chest a bit, as does sleeping on my stomach. I can still "feel" my chest...when I'm pumping the soap dispenser, when I'm sweeping up outside, when I plug in my iPhone charger. It's weird- the awareness.

This week the hypersensitivity has calmed down a lot. It was A BITCH those first few weeks: imagine how your chest hurts sometimes when it's cold...then multiply that by 100.

Yeah.

With the restrictions off, I can lift my little dog, and shopping bags, and carry all of my shit to campus and back, which today included a laptop, 4 books on qualitative methods, lunch, a coffee thermos, and the three notebooks I rarely travel without. I'm sleeping my typical 7.5, and though I'm still a tad out of it, I push through so as to have good night time sleep.

I'm still tired but I am beginning to suspect that wired eventually = tired. This is the first time I've been a regular coffee drinker, so I suspect caffeine is the culprit.

I wore this getup to a fancy/schmancy restaurant with five other buds. It was also the first time I've had booze since the surgery, and wow, I will not be doing that again. My brain turned off for two days-- and I had not had pain meds for days prior. One drink and the next day was spent watching Saving Grace and sucking down water with lime.

I suppose it's all a learning process. Here's to healing.

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part Four

2012-02-15T15:54:00.000-05:00

Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!

Happy Valentine's Day!

I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering the expander surgery. For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This is the fourth of five summary posts. The other posts are here, here, and here.

The surgery. When signing in, I requested a private room. In the pre- op room, an AMAZING nurse started my IV without my really noticing at all! The plastic surgeon came to draw on me and told me that she could make it so that my scars would be on the bottom of my breasts-- so essentially invisible. My mom had flown up prior to the surgery, and she and my husband were allowed to stay with me until I was wheeled off into the OR. I remember going in and being very cold, noticing that my previous- day's pedicure had smeared noticeably (shit!), and chatting a bit with the nurse anesthesist. And then I woke up.

Look, mom! No breasts!

I was attached to a pain pump that I was instructed to push if I felt the slightest amount of pain. Here's the truth: I was sore in my throat and chest-- as if I'd done a crazy workout and huffed and puffed the whole time-- but I was never quite in pain, and never have been. There was, however, the very real discomfort of the Jackson- Pratt Drains, of which I had two, one on each side. My left drain gave me the only true pain I had throughout the entire process, and that was because a suture had been left too long and stuck me like a tack when putting my arms down. That got VERY tender and later made showering and milking the drains painful.

geometric prints= hidden booblessness?

Though I hadn't eaten in over a day, I kept having to pee from the saline drip. Like...20 times (I am not exaggerating). I was annoyed by the IV, and nervous about pulling it out during bathroom trips.

The docs and residents came to check on me often, and the two days I was there were a blur of sleeping, fashion magazines, and...I can't remember. My mother was there every moment, and helped with getting my clothes on, helping me out of bed the first couple of times, helping me with whore's baths during the hospital stay, and taking down info for my care once I got home. My husband picked up my scripts (percoset, a stool softener, and valium to relax the muscle) and drove us home.

Hospital food...not much healthy food here. No green veggies at all.
And cooked carrots make me want to barf (don't mind them raw- weird).

*This summary is the fourth in a series of five posts on the subject. For others, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

Having had my fill- (Conundrum)

2012-02-11T12:58:00.000-05:00

I had my second fill yesterday but opted not to take pain meds, as I am on a writing deadline and require my brain.

Short version: I sort of hurt.

It means another round of paid housekeeping and ordering groceries, even though after today my lifting restriction is off (yay!) and as of last week I was told I could exercise again (yay?).

I am now doing quite the opposite of the type of relaxation I was in earlier weeks: instead of treating myself gently, I worry now that I'm getting too "soft." For instance, I got the go-ahead to exercise last week, but didn't feel *quite* up to it. I am trying to figure out if that's excuse- making 13 or the all- encompassing "listening to my body" 13.

Also, I'm losing weight. If you're a new reader (thank you, btw!) you may not know that I'm a pretty avid exerciser but also a pretty avid (healthy, mindful, mostly) eater. I'd say for most of this year the two canceled each other out for me. That's cool and all, except my BMI is still about a dime higher than docs are telling me it should be.

{newfound tummy, once hidden my F-cups. Gym, anyone?}

And I refuse, refuse, refuse to go hungry. Some call hunger during weight loss discipline, but for me it's equaled a brief affair with some genuine disordered eating behaviors. So...I tread lightly.

I'm still quite afraid of revision surgeries, tiring myself out too much to write, or jiggling something out of place. Gah! I want to strap on my running shoes and demand myself to "man up."

We'll see.

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part Three

2012-02-09T05:00:00.010-05:00

Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!

I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering expander surgery. For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This is the third of five summary posts. The first and second posts are here and here.

{Color blocking= distraction from booblessness?
@ three weeks post-op}

Getting closer: I had a moment for about a month where I decided that I wouldn't think about my breasts, my family history, or the surgery. And then I got my head out of my ass and scheduled it. About two weeks out from my surgery, I started to get VERY NERVOUS. Not "I- shouldn't- do- this" nervous, but "what- if- I- hurt"/ "who's- going- to- cook- and- clean- and- walk- my- doggie"/"will- I- get- my- dissertation- done- this- semester"/"will- my- husband- and- my- mom- clash- during- her- long- stay" nervous. So I got hypnosis, basically so I could stay on top of pain and manage the anxious feelings creeping up. To prepare, I also bought stuff. (I used everything but the sippy cup- didn't need it.)

{side view- shit, I have a tummy now. Or, rather,

I have no boobs to convince me otherwise.}

I also had my pre-op appointment, during which my blood pressure was sky high. The surgical oncologist recommended that I return to my primary care physician to see about blood pressure medication to regulate it before the surgery. Given that I eat very few processed foods and was at that point exercising 3-4 hours per week for nearly a year, I panicked. I made the appointment for the following week.

{I look tired. It is the biggest side effect of the surgery. More on that later, gator.}

In the meantime, I went to a Weight Watchers meeting thinking that I could use the structure to lose the final pounds more quickly. But when I went to my primary care physician, she applauded my weight loss for the year and noted that the pre-op reading was the only one that had been that high. No meds necessary, and she encouraged me to "keep doing what I was doing," which was basically eating mostly whole foods and amping up my exercise.

*This summary is the third in a series of five posts on the subject. For others, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part Two

2012-02-08T05:20:00.014-05:00

Click Here to Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!

I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering this surgery. For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This is the second of five summary posts. The first post is here.

In the meantime: For women considered at high- risk for breast cancer docs recommend multiple yearly screenings early and often. There is also the option to take a drug called tamoxifen, but only if I was done or not interested in having children; one other side effect, along with MANY others, is a noted increase in the type of cancer my mother was recovering from. The final option was the risk- reducing surgery. My ongoing recommendations: get the screenings, 13. Get thee to an appropriate BMI. Exercise at least 4 hours per week.

{Me last week two days following my first fill. Flat, but happy.}

Selecting doctors: I wanted to like mine, and I wanted to stay at my university hospital, ranked one of the best in the U.S. I wanted the best because this was the hardest medical decision I've ever had to make, and because I'd never even had anesthesia before (except for getting my wisdom teeth out -- go figure). I asked around on blogs and forums, and "interviewed" one doc whose manner was, I thought, crass and breezy.

Hospital policy wouldn't initially allow me to see his counterpart (a fact which was not explained to me beforehand--I'd actually wanted to see his counterpart in the first place, but she didn't have openings for weeks), so I straight up lied about having a religious reason for preferring a female doc. The next two docs had been described to me both from online friends and at a cancer conference as "the dream team," and I liked and appreciated their manner work (yep, I read their research-- it's what I do all day anyway...why not for my health?).

*This summary is the second in a series of five posts on the subject. For others, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

13

On a Lighter Note: Stuff I'm Diggin'

2012-02-06T20:15:00.000-05:00

almond- colored leather

Click Here to Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!

Stuff I'm Digging at the Moment:

blue trousers

no- iron shirts!

chambray

fearless hair

What are you diggin' right now?

xoxo,
13

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part One

2012-02-05T05:48:00.007-05:00

Happy Superbreast Sunday! Don't forget to click here to win a dress from Shabby Apple!

I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering the expander surgery. For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This will be broken up into five posts.

I decided to blog about the process because though there are lots of amazing blogs on the subject out there, I saw few from women of color and none from women identifying as African American. Why did this matter? Well, for one, our scarring is different, which matters to me as a young woman; second, our sociohistorical contexts with institutions and our health potentially add an additional layer of conflict; third, I had just left my immediate family's fourth cancer ward; and fourth-- though black women are less likely to be diagnosed with breast cancer, we have higher rates of death from it. Bottom line: there is something we're not doing, and it was my goal to interrupt that something in the name of my own health...then talk about it. A lot.

{I started as an F cup.}

Here goes:

Why I did it: Two years ago, I took a semester off to help my mom through surgeries for a female cancer. During a routine physical, my primary care physician asked of there were other cancers in my family-- and there are many. She referred me to a genetic counselor who had me complete a family tree. Even though I was only able to partially complete it initially, the information I discovered in later months summed up to this: both grandmothers, my sister, and my father had breast or prostate cancers, along with several paternal aunts and uncles. I did not have one of the recognized genes for breast cancer; however, I am still considered high- risk. My decision was based solely on my family's history, the fact that I always felt something during self- breast exams (typical for someone with large fibrocystic breasts) and a gut feeling I've had all of my life.

*This summary is the first in a series of five posts on the subject. For other non- summary posts, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

Enter the Shabby Apple Dress Giveaway!

2012-02-03T19:37:00.000-05:00

Well, well.

The fine people over at Shabby Apple women's online boutique contacted me to offer one special reader a dress from their fabulous collection. And wouldn't you know it-- I clicked over to the website and fell in love. I've seen Shabby Apple women's dresses, skirts, blouses, and accessories on others' blogs, and love the emphasis on both femininity and real- world wear-ability.

I've been approached here and there to promote a product on this wee little ol' blog, but this is the first I've agreed to and why: The pieces seem high- quality and well- made, and use REAL fabrics like cotton, silk and wool. Their sizing for many pieces goes from XXS up to XL (0-16), and the retro-pretty-flirty vibe is seriously amazing-- not too out- there to be unwearable but not so modest that they're frumpy.

My current fave:

{Tea Time Dress from the Mad Hatter Collection}

Here's how to enter to get the one below at no cost to you:

{Spanish Steps Dress- Win it!}

1. Become a public follower of this blog.
2. Like Shabby Apple on Facebook.
3. Visit Shabby Apple, then leave a comment with a way to contact you. Which dress is your favorite?
4. Link to this post for an additional entry. (Make sure to share the link in a separate comment.)
5. The contest closes on Friday, February 17th at 11:59 pm.
6. I'll announce the random lucky winner in that Monday's post, with instructions for claiming the Spanish Steps dress. Entrants should have a US address.

xoxo,
13

Weight Loss Wednesday: Betcha Thought I Forgot

2012-02-01T17:23:00.000-05:00

Hey!

I am getting better and better every day. Still super tired. I am behind in my fellowship work but trying not to worry about it. I got one of those "nice to hear from you!" responses from someone I work with. I'm sorry, pal. I just had my tits cut off and I'm murdering my dissertation. Forgive me.

{following my first fill}

Good news: on Monday at after my fill, I got the ok to exercise. Still no lifting, but my runner's legs are itching.

Not really.

But I do believe that exercise is good stress relief and will help me get stronger. I dunno, though. Even car rides make me so aware...of myself.

Anyhow, not exercising makes it easy to lose weight: I was Captain Calorie Restricter for some time. But I like exercising. So to be healthier, I have to eat more. I'm looking for the balance-- or, rather, the unbalance-- that will allow me to lose some weight without feeling as if I'll keel over.

So this WLW= trying to exercise without feeling worse or impeding my healing.

Letcha know how it goes.

xoxo,
13

Three Weeks Post- Op: Sharing my Fill-ings

2012-01-30T18:28:00.000-05:00

Well.

I'm tired. But I'm able to do some work along with looooong stretches of rest. In fact, the first chapter of the big diss is in, with the second following next week. I am in a state of disbelief about both it and the surgery...I can't believe both are almost done. Or rather, approaching done-ness.

I went for my first fill today. It was mostly painless and now I have a little bit of projection. Doc says I can go every week if I want; she'll do 60 ccs each time. Below is the process: basically over time the doc sticks you with a syringe full of saline. Since my implant will be placed behind my muscle, it has to stretch over a period of some months. I am still so happy with the levels of professionalism and expertise. It's hard to get naked in front of someone over and over. I always wonder: can they see how happy I am to not have the breasts anymore? To have this risk...almost gone? It is all I can do not to hug the docs.

I am missing mom and feeling overwhelmed. I look normal from the outside but I'm so tired. I love the work of writing and reading but at the end of the sessions I feel as if I've run three miles. I feel an incredible sense of urgency about finishing-- it's been 4 and a half years now and I'd like to earn a salary again: save for retirement, put a new roof over our front porch. Right now our "extra" will be going toward a housekeeper since I am basically housebound but have this stupid dust allergy. I am also forbidden from lifting anything heavier than 5 pounds. This includes my little doggie, my laptop, and the damn vacuum cleaner. So I can't clean my house, take the laptop to a coffee shop, or work from campus unless I'm willing to crash at one of the labs, which I dislike immensely (too distracting for writing).

If nothing else, I have always prided myself in being physically strong (even while I was fat), but these days...I do not feel strong at all. I feel tired and dopey and glazed.

The good news is that I've been given the ok to exercise again! More on that later...

"Sunburn" and Hope

2012-01-28T07:26:00.000-05:00

My biggest issue with this surgery-- other than the expected fatigue-- has been a sunburn-like feeling across my chest. It feels like an odd reaction to hot and cold, or- well- like a sunburn. I have only experienced sunburn once (Thanks, Tobago) so it took me a while to even get to a "eureka!" moment.

A poke around on the FORCE website and Google suggested that pure aloe vera gel might help. I happen to have some, as I use it in my hair in the summer.

Here's to hoping.

xoxo,
13

Drains/Pains: 16 Days Post- Op

2012-01-26T22:22:00.000-05:00

So! Tuesday I got my drains out. I felt like a new woman-- for about 3 hours. Then the achiness set in.

No question about it-- I feel different. And yep, there surely is more to feel. I got some exercises to do twice a day and WOW- they really help. I'm going to stretch the limits of my health insurance (pun intended!) in hopes that they'll pay for physical therapy too.

{There's me...is this what an A cup looks like?}

At the plastic surgeon's office yesterday I asked the nurse question after question, and one that got resolved was the shooting pains I've been getting. Evidently these are just my nerves regenerating, which means I'll likely retain some feeling across my chest area. So, a good thing!

{I sort of love this odd little Anthro sweater.}

A new hearing date (May 9!). A dissertation to write. A body to heal.

Last night I sent graduation information to my family, so guess what...it's on like neckbones.

xoxo,
13

Yessssssssssssss!

2012-01-24T20:51:00.000-05:00

My drains are out!

I worked for five hours today! I did not collapse! I had a celebratory brunch with my mom!

And there was also this as a "good going, kid" from the moms:

Badgley Miscka Cherise Tote

Oh, sessy sessy, now. I think the clean lines and bold hardware are just dreamy. (And now I'm really off to dreamland because wow, wow, wow, I am so fucking tired and I had drains riiiiiiiiiippppped out of my bod today and forgot painkillers while at the library doing all of the above.

That is all.

!

xoxo,
13

2 weeks Post- Op: Damn Drains!

2012-01-23T20:48:00.000-05:00

I've been having some serious irritation at the suture that connects my drains to my body, and this weekend (drumroll, please) finally got the go- ahead to have them removed.

(My plastic surgeon required that 2 days pass with 30 ml or fewer fluid collected. I am quite sure that sentence does not make sense, but I'm dumb right now.)

It will be a relief to be rid of these things tomorrow.

This isn't me (no- really?)-- I'm too tired to photograph myself, sorry-- but here's what they look like:

cred

Yes. Those are coming out of you.

And here's mine with a drain belt I purchased online:

surgical bra and drain belt

You can see the gauze we've placed there to keep the velcro from irritating my skin. You'd be surprised what can irritate your skin after a surgery: velcro, the air, drinking something cold...

I had a crappy day today. Basically my chest area feels very sensitive to cold-- to the point where it's almost painful. I've also been having some odd, brief shooting pains all day, and I did not sleep well last night.

I broke down and took a percoset, slept, and have now had the dummy- brain + slow body all day today. Mom and I went to the grocery store tonight, and you'd have thought I'd run ten miles or something. I did manage to write a couple of pages this morning beforehand, however.

Always a journey.

First Snow (Okay. Really the Second. But Freak Snow in October Doesn't Count.)

2012-01-21T15:05:00.000-05:00

I am especially happy to be alive today.

I've been complainy recently, but today I have realized something: all of this discomfort is my body healing. See, I'd figured that since I wasn't really having pain that I was A-OK. Not true, silly billy. You are not "recovered" just because you're not in pain.

{about 5am}

And today there was snow, and there was my mother who brought me this sugar- free Tang-like drink that I absolutely love at just the moment when I was like "Shit, I'm thirsty, but don't feel like walking down two flights to get it." And there was my bad little dog who seemed to sense that I had been feeling grumpy and pawed at the door to come sit with me.

And there is still no pain. And there is still my mother, who is caring so sweetly for me. And there is still my beautiful family who sends their good vibes all the way from Tennessee, and my dear friend from undergrad whose children make me laugh with their interruptions while we talked on the phone today.

And there is season 2 of The Good Wife, which I will watch and not think for one iota of one moment that I should be reading an article on Critical Race Theory instead.

xoxo,

10 Days Post- Op: Annoyances

2012-01-20T06:12:00.000-05:00

First let me preface this by saying that I had the BEST team of docs and nurses anyone could ask for. The care has been positively exceptional, and I feel 100% good about all parts related to my surgery.

But I am angry at my body. I know it's silly. But this is my blog.

1. I CAN'T THINK! The mental fuzziness is so, so irksome. I'm off the pain meds but the gray cloud is still there.

2. There is a suture that is pricking me. It is like leaning into a tack several times a day. I spoke with the nurse Monday when I was at the plastic surgeon's office, the home health nurse, and the nurse from the surgical oncologist's office. They all said to be patient. The nurse from the surgical oncologist's office suggested that it could be trimmed down, so I will bring that to the attention to the home health nurse who comes tomorrow. Her previous visit was, um...useless. (Mom- former nurse- said the HHN even inserted the thermometer incorrectly, but didn't want to embarrass her by correcting her.)

3. One word: DRAINS. Ouch and yuck and whenthefuckwillthesecomeout?

4. Physically, I'm so tired. I went to a meeting on campus today that was 2 hours long and haven't been able to do a thing since. Except watch The Good Wife and shop online for clothes that will camouflage the fact that my chest is now concave:

Colorblocking. Colorblock tee; colorblock cardigan, both on supersale at J.Crew.

Layering. ADAM Lippes leather jacket; Love Divya fur vest.

And a couple of wraps/jackets/ponchos that I have shot before that will prove useful:

Everyone keeps telling me to chill. I KNOW I should be. I am 10 days out from a huge surgery but three months out from a draft of a dissertation (giggle). I will chill. I will chill. I will chill and be happy about it.

And I will graduate.

Dammit.

xoxo,
13

8 Days Post- Op: The Dumb Sh*t People Say to Someone Who Just Had Major Surgery

2012-01-18T04:27:00.002-05:00

The worst things you can say...

1. To the person who is 90% homebound: "The cable is out."
2. To the person with physical limitations:"Can you get that for me?"
3. To the person with new, phantom pain:"It's probably nothing."
4. To the person battling exhaustion in order to have a "normal" day:"You tired?"

5. To the person who may suddenly need more help: "Zzzzzzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzzzzzz."
6. To the person trying to negotiate recovery, work, school, partners, keeping house, a business, kids, etc.: "You can just..."
7. To a person trying to maintain a sense of personal pride and normalcy: "Can I see them?"
8. To the person grateful to their team of docs: "I'm terrified of hospitals."
9. To the person who made the biggest medical decision of her life and feels 1000000x better for it: "You don't have cancer? So you did this for nothing?"

Forgive them, for they know not what they do.

xoxo,
13

7 Days Post- Op: Not All Sunshine and Rainbows

2012-01-17T05:08:00.001-05:00

Yesterday the home health nurse noticed that my right boob is filled with liquid, and today, oh hell yeah, I noticed it too.

So I'm trying not to panic- my temperature has remained level, so there may be no infection, and, though I had a VERY uncomfortable day yesterday, I still had no pain.

You didn't forget, did you?

Which brings me to the downsides of this surgery. You didn't think it was all puppies and snow cones, did you? (Or as we used to call them in the South- freeze cups?)

-Discomfort. I am wearing a bra all of the time, and my stitches are healing.
-Achiness.
-Constipation. I tried everything: flax muffins, magnesium, stool softeners, and high- fiber veggies. It took 5 days. TMI, I know, but it is what it is.
-Exhaustion, which sets in often before I am able to recognize it. This is both physical (I need to sleep) and mental (oh, hey, I think You've Got Mail is a little tricky for my current brain cells, mmmkay? How about Dora the Explorer instead?).
-Seroma. That's a buildup of fluid, and yep, got it. The nurse told me yesterday that she drained nearly a full cup of liquid that had been clogging around my incision. Ewsies.

I feel a little guilty for how much I'm needing to rest. My mom is doing all of the cooking and cleaning while teaching her last semester of classes, now partially online because she's here.

So no, not all fun and games, eh?

xoxo,
13

Post- Op Day 6: If ya wanna

2012-01-16T03:47:00.000-05:00

So!

My best friend was in town celebrating her brother's engagement, so we got to guck it up for a little while. I remember her mom pinching us (hard) in church when we were teenagers, passing notes instead of listening to the Word. It was an amazing visit; this year has been the first year of our lives we've lived in different cities. She's a nurse anestithist, (spelled completely wrong but remember my brain is on vibrate for now.)

Which brings me to this: being housebound.

One word: ugh.

{most used: burt's bees for my hands and feet; laptop for reading blogs
and watching TV; earplugs; tv tray table}

At first it was cool. I am home an awful lot anyway since my work is mostly writing. But usually when the tide turns-- that is, when I start, say, cleaning the fingerprints off of the door rather than reading-- I know it's time to hit up campus or a nearby coffee shop, of which there are 4 within 2 blocks of here. Having a lifting restriction means no cleaning (yay!) but that leaves me with People magazine, blogs, and TV. While it's been a good ride, I think I am going to have to venture out today.

My mother is insisting that the cold could interfere with my recovery. And yes...it's cold. But guess what, people? I live in Philly. You know, where it's cold.

I purposely made my recovery room my study, where there is an old living room set. I wanted to have visitors; more importantly, I didn't want to feel all confined to a bed. The couch is old and cheap and tough- perfect for propping myself up. I am also around a good portion of my books, which are my favorite things in the world...even though my mind won't let me even read a little fiction at the moment.

{I also want to say thanks for all of your comments and well wishes. Srsly. I am so thankful that my recovery has been so easy. Supposedly I'll see a home health nurse later today and then get drains out next week, which means...I'll be back in business. Your thoughts, prayers, good vibes, suggestions, and comments mean a lot.}

Okay, off to kill this moment of clarity with a Percoset.

lol,

Post- Op Day 5: On Mental Fuzziness

2012-01-15T03:15:00.001-05:00

In short: it's there.

Before my surgery I wrote nearly every day for 6 hours or so. Now I'm lucky if I don't feel as if my InStyle magazine isn't written in Portuguese.

It will pass. I'm sure it's the meds. In the meantime I HAVE A DATE FOR MY FINAL DEFENSE (!!!!!!!!!) this May. I LOVE my dissertation chair. LOVE her.

I can do it. (But not this week, haha.) Being patient with my body, letting myself heal, and taking advantage of having the mental capacity of an 11- year old has its perks. Can we say Women's World magazine, anyone?

I will say that for someone who fancies herself a bit of an intellectual, this time is both scary and funny.

xoxo,
13

Post- Op Day 4: Pain Management

2012-01-14T03:47:00.007-05:00

I keep saying how little pain I'm having. This, I'm sure, is far from accidental. The surgical oncologist assigned to me stressed before my surgery how important it would be to continue to take medication for pain, even in the months following. I didn't think about it much then-- my surgery was a month away-- but I have seen evidence of that particular urgency throughout my care. Bottom line- don't hurt!

{tea, scripts, a model dissertation}

My current scripts have me taking percoset every 4 hours. (I can decide whether to take one or two. Usually I take one, but at bedtime I take two.) I also take a valium at bedtime, which relaxes the muscle beneath which my expander is placed. I take an antibiotic twice a day and a stool softener twice a day.

One of my big questions was how much help to have following the surgery. Here's my answer (again, based only on my own experience): you will need help. A savvy spouse could easily do it, or a trusted friend. My mother was a nurse years ago and thus LOVES having a patient, haha, and has been fantastic.

{flowers}

The types of assistance I found I need the most are:

-preparing food-- and then actually eating it. Mom cooked up a storm, but my appetite isn't so great (bet I'm staying within my weight watchers points now, lol). She's making sure I eat something. My friends offered to bring food, but I declined because I thought I'd want more privacy after the surgery. Also, the last thing I wanted was to get fat off of baked goods that people tend to bring!

-managing loved ones. I don't have kids, but can't imagine doing recovery solo with little ones. Again, a savvy spouse could get you through. My "loved one" is my little dog, who gets a coupla walks per day. Mom and hubs are taking care of that for now, but I've been given the green light to walk with them (though since he's larger than 10 lbs- the upper limit of my restriction- someone else has to hold the leash).

-expressing my drains. I could do this myself, but I get the yucksies and my mom doesn't seem to mind...so I let her go for it.

-Cleaning. I have a dust allergy so my home is usually pretty clean. I couldn't keep it that way without someone to help.

Bottom line: you could maybe do this alone, but it could be risky to. My insurance covers a home health aide, but I haven't seen her just yet.

That's all I can think of for now.

xoxo,

Post-Op Day 3

2012-01-13T06:30:00.005-05:00

Again, home and feeling like a million bucks. Basically, I feel as if I had a tough workout with weights and am just a little sore from it.

So much of what I had anticipated happening didn't happen. For example:

-I can shower. This is a much- talked about topic in the FORCE community. I was fully prepared to be unable to shower for several days, but nope. As long as I have a way to secure my drains to my body, it's all good. For this purpose, I've purchased a drain belt. It works pretty well.

-I can use a regular cup, open bottles, and pull back my hair on my own.

-I can move, go up and down stairs, lift (light things) and walk my pup. If I felt like it, I could cook a meal. But my mom is here, so I'm totally taking advantage of her home cookin', haha. It is so nice to be served and cared for!

hospital bracelet and IV insertion area

-The yuckiest part is these damn drains. I am not queasy at all but gook coming out of you is pretty gross, and having to measure it is pretty gross too. I'm supposed to get these out after a week or so.

-I'm mentally a little out of it. I mean, I feel good but even putting together an email takes more effort than usual; also my memory seems a little off, probably because of the painkillers. I am told that that's normal.

{The recovery room- my study}

My plastic surgeon told me before the surgery that my breasts were so large that she could make the incision on the underside of my new breasts. That means no visible scarring, people. She's incredible. No scars!

Seriously...if you found my blog through FORCE and are on the fence about the PBM...do it. I feel AMAZING.

xoxo,

Post Op Day 2

2012-01-12T12:31:00.000-05:00

I am amazed at how good I feel. Other than soreness, I'm all good! To be more specific, I'm able to walk, lift my arms, feed myself, dress, and walk the dog...with a little help from my mom.

The docs said everything looked good, so I was discharged today! I'm home and listening to my little dog play with his squeak toy. My little boobs look totally deflated, like balloons whose air has been sucked out...but my doc is certain that I'll be happy with the final result. The only yucky thing is my drains, which fill up with fluid and have to be emptied 3x per day.

The staff at the hospital have been AMAZING. Like, everyone.

I am still bewildered: how can I not be in pain?

Admittedly I am a little out of it-- my memory is shot from the pain meds, and it's hard to concentrate-- but all the better for watching crummy TV.

More than anything is the profound sense of gratefulness and relief. I want to send a special note to my docs, and will have to figure out the appropriate method for doing so.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers and good wishes.

Thank God. Thank God. I'm okay. I'm better than okay- I'm WONDERFUL!

xoxo,

D-Day: Post Op Day 1

2012-01-11T04:22:00.000-05:00

Yesterday my mom and I had a lovely girl's day. We got massages and had brunch, then came home and cooked up a storm. All of this was followed by a nice deep condition for my hair and a pedicure. Plus a jaunt with the Naughty Dog.

The call came in the middle of brunch: I was to arrive at the hospital at 11:05.

We got here and after a short wait I was escorted back. I don't have a ton of energy, but let me say this: I am so, so happy. I'm in minimal pain (more like discomfort). I was transferred to a private room where Lovebug and Moms are resting.

How does it feel:? Sore. Exhausting. Groggy. Okay, can't type much else.

13

A Friend In Need: One Day and Counting

2012-01-09T07:02:00.002-05:00

It is amazing to me the lengths through which strangers will go to help you through a tough time. It is also amazing how the crowds you expected at your side thin out when the shit hits the fan. I am learning a lot about my peeps these days...a LOT. My pops is a prime example. He's been vociferously questioning this surgery-- to my brothers, no less, and refuses to get gene testing. (This is a local politician and cancer survivor with a doctorate, people. He should know better.)

{pants- gap; jacket- antrho; blouse- tucker by gaby besora}

On the other hand, last week I had lunch with a woman that I met once. We connected. She'd had my surgery and came back on the other side healthier and happier for it.

And she's black. Seeing another young African American woman who has done this was the best gift ever.

I feel so blessed to have such angels in my life, and can't help but think that my sister and grandmoms are somewhere watching too.

Today we wait for the call from the hospital telling us what time to arrive tomorrow.

xoxo,

Pin- Up:Two Days and Counting

2012-01-09T06:07:00.000-05:00

At the last FORCE meeting, several of the women who'd had my surgery suggested that I have a sendoff for my breasts-- a ta-ta to Tatas party, if you will. They also said I should take some nudie pics to remember how my body looked before.

I took the pics. Let me tell you, there is nothing like viewing nude images of yourself to shake you up a bit. Viewing the photos, I was pleasantly surprised at how relatively fit I am-- legs all a-muscle, flat tummy, strong shoulders. It was a wake up call that my azz needs to calm the fuck down re: weight loss. I liked what I saw, kind of a lot. Body dysmorphia, anyone? (One of my weight "issues" is that I have never been able to see myself as fat, fit, or anything in between. It is one reason I take photos here.)

Not me, obvs.

But then there are these giant breasts. I have spent much of my childhood-- and lots of adulthood-- pretending they aren't there. Shoving them into ill- fitting bras (up until three years ago when I was properly fitted. I went from a 38DD to a 34F. Go get fitted, people). Binding them down for exercise. As an adolescent my large breasts nudged me out of nice-girl territory, at least to the moms of the guys I was dating. Large breasts make you a walking sexual object. In my case it happened long before I wholly understood what sex was.

I lived with the awareness that my grandmother had died of breast cancer, and figured that someday I would too. At 20, I learned I had fibrocystic breasts, and at 24, atypical hyperplasia. And then came my sister's cancer, and my dad's. My mom's. When I did a comprehensive family tree I discovered it on my paternal grandmother's side as well.

I know this is the right thing to do. I guess I never really thought that tomorrow would actually get here, though. I trust the doctors, I trust God.

xoxo,

Hypnosis

2012-01-06T18:57:00.001-05:00

So in preparation for my upcoming surgery, I got all hypnotized.

It was to assist with pain management and anxiety following the operation.

{top, jacket, shoes- anthro; pants- elie tahari}

It was cool. The hypnotist asked me to imagine myself in a place where I felt most relaxed. She asked me to monitor my breathing and imagine myself in a safe, dark place.

Who knows if it worked? But admittedly today I felt almost euphoric...in spite of some other craziness going on.

xoxo,

Tangentially

2012-01-05T05:28:00.002-05:00

Ah, a 50- cent word. I am a lover of words, so I took it up, challenged myself to a duel, and now use it often...if only tangentially. Heh.

I am disappointed that I will not make my "two chapters" deadline before my surgery next Tuesday, and even sadder that I can't seem to locate the instructions or dates for graduation/final defense anywhere on our website.

I'm frustrated, and scuuuuuuuuured.

{blazer, pants- gap; shirt- brooks brothers; shoes-jcrew}

My surgery is in a few days and all I can do is gaze at the rows of shoes in my closet. This pair is my current favorite. Mom comes on Sunday. I'm still writing and writing.

Surgery or no surgery, I will be Dr. Thirteen by June. Mark my words.

I have been having odd recurring thoughts recently: of changing my name; weight loss and fitness; pillows-- cotton or down?

It has suddenly gotten stupidly cold. I realized today that after my breasts are gone, my cute little jackets will no longer fit.

13

I bonked!

2012-01-03T05:56:00.001-05:00

For the first time ever since beginning to run with Couch to 5K, I could not physically complete a workout.

Yes...this just happened to be the days following some pretty broad calorie- slashing to fit within my WW points. I am not sure how heavy exercisers manage the program? Maybe the "free" fruit gets them through? You also get activity points, but even with those...I bonked 10 minutes in. I just couldn't "go" anymore.

I have also been constantly thinking about food.

Thinking.

xoxo,
13

A giggle and some resolutions

2012-01-02T06:39:00.006-05:00

Bwahahahhaa! I love this:

The thing is, this year I have made some serious lifestyle changes! I:

-work out 4,5, or 6 days per week!
-focus on health and fitness...
-run!

So I'm building on these strengths for the year! Here goes:

1. Run 60 minutes 3-4 times a week.
2. Heal.
3. Strength train 2-3 times per week once I do #2.
4. Get a doctorate.
5. Buy clothes that make me feel like a million bucks, like this top with leather sleeves:

{jeans-old navy; top- elizabeth and james}

Loving 2012 already.

xoxo,

Happy Holidays

2012-01-01T18:32:00.000-05:00

From Philly...

Happy Holidays! Hang in for...New Years Resolutions.

xoxo,
13

Two Weeks and Counting

2011-12-28T07:46:00.000-05:00

Until my surgery.

Having a little freak out moment.

You know me...I freak out, I plan. Control what I can.

Post- surgery camisole. To support and hold drains. There's also cotton wadding to help me look a bit more stacked until my new boobs are totally inflated.

Pillow. My bestie told me that this is called a "husband" pillow. It should help with me having to sleep sitting up.

Sippy Cup. Because evidently I won't even have the range of motion to lift a glass.

Slippers. Because tying, buckling, or pulling on boots will suck.

Also suggested are: front close bra (my running bra should do it), button- down tops, a thick blanket for the hospital, track pants for when I'm leaving...and trashy magazines and TV for times when I'm awake.

For now I have to get out two chapters of the big diss. It is hard to focus, but my writing group helps a lot.

13

Photographic Evidence

2011-12-28T06:29:00.002-05:00

Of a dissertation actually happening. One up to my writing group:

But seriously, someone asked me to consider sharing the process of writing a dissertation. Basically, you are sitting down every day and writing. What comes out is a mix of 1) straight garbage, 2) analyzed data, 3) some of your own thoughts, and 4) the stuff people wrote before you.

Every week, these folks offer me feedback on a section or two that I've been working on. They are not kind, but I appreciate their candidness. Not to mention that they're pretty amazing scholars to boot.

And yes...staying focused is hard: no one but me cares if I finish. Dissertations aren't "read" like books. They are "filed." Mostly no one reads them unless they're doing a dissertation too. So having a group to keep us motivated makes all of the difference.

My topic is information access within gentrifying communities, and part of my research led me to broad research done on health disparities in African Americans. I tell you, you read so much that the damn dissertation manages to cycle back to pretty much everything...

Here's to one last push before a deadline.

xoxo,

The "What I Really Wanted" Wishlist

2011-12-26T04:43:00.000-05:00

So!

I am at the age where giftgiving matters less, partly because I am older and more in tune with the "true" meaning of Christmas and partly because I'm so fucking particular that no one can shop for me anyway. (Though a Saks gift card would do the trick nicely!)

This year is even more special because I have a FREAKING SURGERY at the start of the year. My wishlist includes things like:

a) waking up after the surgery.
b) not having much pain-- or at the very least, being able to tolerate it well.
c) being well enough to do some writing during the month of February so that you know, I can maybe graduate.

But anyhoo, here's my (material) list.

{Elizabeth and James "Mitch" Tee; Fur Vest; Blouses; a Grown-up Watch; Tights; Laptop battery; Makeup Brushes}

Here's to after- Christmas shopping!

xoxo,

Alert/ No Alert

2011-12-24T06:56:00.000-05:00

So.

Off I went to my primary care physician for BP meds as per my breast surgeon during my pre-op appointment.

Me: X said to come to you for a review and recommendation for meds.

Dr. S: Your last 5 readings have been fine. It was only that one that was high. Were you at all anxious at during that appointment?

Me: Duh.

Dr. S: I wouldn't recommend meds at all for you. In your last 5 readings, all but that one have been in the normal range. (Looks at chart) You've lost some weight this year.

Me: Yeah. Not enough.

Dr. S: Actually this is about the rate a person should be losing. Keep doing what you're doing. It will stay off this way.

And you can imagine the weepy dialogue that happened after that. So I got a flu shot and that was that.

Keep doing what I'm doing! Yes, ma'am.

{boots- frye; top, vest-anthro;jeans-levis; hat, belt-h&m}

In other news, someone hacked into my Paypal account and made 23 charges the day after I got paid my meager fellowship stipend for the month. You know, two days from Christmas.

So oh, yeah- merry Christmas, everyone!

xoxo,
13

My Day at Weight Watchers

2011-12-23T04:39:00.001-05:00

So!

In an effort to lose 15 pounds and lower my blood pressure I checked out my local Weight Watchers meeting. I went in knowing that 1) I am social and would probably like the camaraderie; and 2) that I have heard both good and bad things about the program.

I have mixed feelings about the meeting. First, the leaders were great-- both had lost 110 and 40 pounds like 30 years ago. The weigh- in was painless and private. It was nice to be in a room with other people who wanted to lose weight.

{pants- bought from a blog sale- express; top-ella moss}

On the other hand, the nutrition info and points system seems both really basic (nutrition info) and needlessly confusing (points). Also...there's the whole "low fat" thing. I will never get with that. I don't believe in it and neither does my blood sugar. But people follow all types of plans while tracking using the points system, so it's not a deal breaker, I guess.

And finally...the online interface sucks. After using MyFitnessPal and being able to scan (for free) the freaking yogurt I'm eating, a shitty database of foods + odd (PAID- another $13/ month) webdesign is kind of a big deal to me...

I ran it by a friend, who suggested just going for the cheerleading and weigh- ins. It's pretty pricey to do that, however, at $15 a week (and you can't miss weeks).

So I'm on the fence, but again trying not to forget that um...there's a wee bit of urgency surrounding my weight loss nowadays...leave it to me to ramp weight loss up during the holidays.

xoxo,

Have you ever left the doctor's office feeling like someone kicked you in the face?

2011-12-21T05:23:00.001-05:00

That was my pre-op appointment.

The goal of this, I thought, was to check my vitals and go through paperwork for my mastectomy. Instead, I had two full- fledged exams in which it was discovered that my blood pressure is high. Too high.

Stress? check

Overweight? check

Processed or salty food? (not so much)

Sedentary lifestyle? (Yes, I sit in a library all day. But no, I exercise vigorouslsy 4-5 times per week.)

So I had my second medical shocker for 2011: bitch you have to get on BP meds. Before.Your.Surgery. In less than a month. As if your ass needed another thing to stress about.

{jacket- old; top, belt-jcrew; jeans-levis; booties-matisse 'nugent'}

Awesome.

I felt fat and mad at myself. This was exacerbated by a phone call from my pops, who' shared that he was recently rushed to the emergency room for stroke-like blood pressure.

But-I don't "do" powerless. 15 pounds in a year is great, but a pound a week would be even better.

So I made a decision: no more waiting. It's now. I'm going to have to transition from fitness-only to weight loss.

People. Thank God I never said I have all of the answers, cause if I had I'd be eating crow.

***I remain true to the fact that I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, that psychologically I could possibly be doing this to exert some control in a life dominated by the out-of-control feeling of trying to Get it Done the same semester as a major surgery. Translation: I could be a damn fool, but hey, at least I'm still learning.***

xoxo,
13

Getting it Done

2011-12-18T17:16:00.000-05:00

I feel horrible for being a crappy blogger.

Honestly, I am spending so many isolated hours in silence that it is hard not to go crazy. I am reminding myself that people write dissertations all the time and finish them with their sanity intact. They have families and friends. They rest. And they get done.

"Get done" is doc student code for graduating and entering the real world. To those looking in, it looks like a breeze: study all day, meet new people, get paid to write stuff that interests you. It is a cycle that looks to some like to perpetual adolescence; we wear jeans and backpacks and go daily to "school."

{photographic evidence- the writing group}

When I started this blog a year ago, it was to document a love of my favorite store as I worked toward rebuilding a wardrobe. (The subtext, of course, was that I mostly needed a new wardrobe because I had grown out of my previous one.) In the last 6 years, I'd gained 35 pounds, pushing me close to the obese category. But strangely enough, even at that high weight I had a new feeling of health. I was eating cleanly. I loved my body. I still do.

But loving my body has been a double- edged sword. I've lost 15 pounds this year-- mostly in early months of the year- and I've kept it off. But I need to love 20 more, and I need to do it now. I need to, with this weight loss, get done.

It's going to be a new journey. (So there's going to be some regular posts. Really.)

xoxo,

Midfoot Striking

2011-12-12T12:08:00.000-05:00

So.

In the last two weeks I've been "relearning" how to run after battling shin splints again and again.

Let me be real: as usual, I have no idea what I'm doing. I read something and tried it. It seems different and difficult, and it takes far more effort. (I am also running faster- can't seem to help it? Is this because the stride is more efficient?) I am finding myself sore again, wiped out after a half- hour run. But shin splints have so far stayed at bay.

I'm not comfortable pushing much past 30 minutes, but hopefully after adjusting I can keep moving...finally.

In other news, I am trying a new workout schedule. This week I worked out 6 days, something I've vehemently protested in the past. But sitting writing all day and other stress has made exercise feel like a privilege, so I'm taking it. Never say never, I guess.

Always learning.

xoxo,

May the FORCE be with you

2011-12-09T12:30:00.000-05:00

So.

After months of will-she-or- won't-she back and forth, I finally decided to head to the Philadelphia area FORCE meeting. For those not in the know, FORCE stands for "facing our risk of cancer empowered." It's for folks with high incidences of familial breast or ovarian cancers, or those with a determined genetic risk.

The short version: I went. It was great. I learned a lot and got to see what my boobs will look like. I got paired with a buddy for surgery.

It was sort of crazy to be with a group of women who stared down the same decisions and dealt with the same concerns. Since I've found out about the surgical option, not having it has never been an option. To hear others voice this certainty was miraculous to me, always the skeptic.

It seems that once many of us had sat by someone's (or multiple someone's) bedsides while they fought cancer, the option to "wait and see" seemed almost dangerous.

The three hours flew by.

My surgery is one month from today. I am not afraid at all.

Not.Again.

2011-12-06T06:12:00.002-05:00

Benched from shinsplints again, I posted a thread on runner's world after limping home in three different area codes.

Look, body. All I want to be able to do is run for an hour four times a week. Is that so hard? (Evidently so.)

Responses from the board:

-Has anybody ever told you if you are a heel striker, forefoot, or midfooter?
-try staying off of concrete, run on the track, grass any soft surface for awhile
-I adapted to a midfoot strike with shorter strides.
-I was a heel striker and am working on switching to mid/fore foot striking and that is making the difference.
-Shin splints are more often than not caused by poor running form.

Overwhelmingly, the responses suggested "checking my form." Evidently I've been doing this shit all wrong. You mean I am not supposed to look as if I'm in pain when I'm running? No?

So I'm back, and this time being intentional about my stride. And you know what? My azz is tired. Midfoot striking means lifting my damn leg more. I came home after my jaunt today and took a nap.

Pitiful.

(But no new shin pain.)

We.shall.see.

Can you tell I don't give up? I don't give up.

xoxo,

So Sad

2011-12-05T18:12:00.000-05:00

It was weird being in Tallahassee over Thanksgiving as the details of this case were unfolding. It makes me sad, angry.

Mostly sad. Instead of having Thanksgiving dinner as a family...they planned a funeral.

All in the name of "paying dues."

So sad!

13

Oh, Deer!

2011-11-28T19:33:00.000-05:00

Consummate city- dweller that I am, I remain consistently fascinated by nature: oceans, wildlife, greenery. So when I came across these deer friends while touring a local HBCU all I could do was snap a pic.

My friend laughed at my child~~like~~ ish delight.

As I packed my suitcase to return to Philly, I marveled a little at its contents: my black skinny jeans; red pants (of course!), maxi skirts, a lovely dress, and leopard print. I am getting closer to my "own" style, I can feel it. I am also settling into this body o' mine, imperfect as it is.

I ate well this break-- two off-plan meals but no overeating (a success on Thanksgiving in anybody's book). As my sad little shin splints heal, I have studied runners' gaits. Maybe I'm doing it all wrong...we shall see.

xoxo,
13

Giving Thanks

2011-11-26T08:02:00.000-05:00

Today I am angry! Why? Again, I am sidelined by shin splints!

I am so frustrated. It seems as if every time I attempt to progress I end up having to take time off to stretch, rest, and recover. And no...I'm not running through them, thank you very much.

{top, belt- anthro; pants- ann taylor}

After a lovely Turkey Day with old friends and family, lots of wonderful warm weather and yummy food...I stretch my legs and feel oddly sore.

In other news...Black Friday was a bust on this end for me. I didn't buy a thing even though the sales were kind of crazy. I think Gap had something crazy like 60% off! I don't have much of a wishlist this year, but am working on one...can you believe New Years is around the corner?

xoxo,
13

Weight Loss Wednesday: Peeking In

2011-11-22T19:39:00.000-05:00

Nothing new is going on: I'm working lots. LOTS.

Running lots.

Waiting lots...for roofers.
As the season changes, I have found myself thinking about joining a gym. The one on campus is bonkers, full of preening undergrads. No, thank you.

For the holiday I'm in sunny Florida, which is unusually hot, even for Florida. 85 degrees in Northern Florida is blasphemous! Not to mention baaaaaad for frizz. I hope I don't collapse during my run tomorrow from the humidity. Ugh.

This is one of my early attempts at skinny jeans. For once, having no hips serves me well, haha.

xoxo,
13

Happy Birthday?

2011-11-16T14:39:00.000-05:00

I forgot how old I am. The other day a friend asked, and I told her-- with certainty-- that I was a whole year older than I am. She said, "I didn't know you were older than me!" Turns out I was not.

Then I subtracted- did the math. Still didn't seem right.

{skinnies- old navy; boots-frye; top-land's end; vest-anthro}

Then I happened to speak to my genetic counselor, where I asked her some questions about my health care. She mentioned my age. A bell went off-- I was sure she'd said the wrong age-- but I didn't correct her.

The funny thing is, my birthday just passed this weekend, and for weeks I couldn't remember how old I was.

I suppose this is a sign that I am settling into this body, forgiving it in a way that I could not in my twenties. I use retin-a and run 12 miles a week (oh how I want to run more!), ~~don't have any grays~~ and ~~have all my teeth.~~ So for now, on this birthday, I'll just call myself "young."

I know...it's kinda funny. And kinda pitiful too.

xoxo,

My Fitness Pal

2011-11-12T05:25:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I feel bad as a media researcher that I am not up to speed on um, media.

My running buddy tipped me off to My Fitness Pal. It's an easy way to log your foods and exercise, as well as adjust your eating to your activity level. It's also significantly simpler and faster than FitDay, which I've used on and off for almost a decade.

Best of all, you can use your phone camera to scan bar codes on prepared foods...and it logs them for you just like that!

Anyhow, I'm sure I'm the last one to the party (as usual), but I highly recommend this if you're seeking an easier way to keep track of foods too.

xoxo,

11-11-11

2011-11-11T07:03:00.023-05:00

Los Angeles is an interesting place. I am shocked by the laid- back nature of people here: people hold the door, look you in the eye, strike up conversation. After the stuffiness of the Northeast it is almost a relief. This is a major city?!?!?!?

{top-??? old; skirt-LOFT; booties-belle by sigerson morrison}

As for me, I am bored with this conference already. The sessions start ridiculously early, and the ones I'm most interested in seem to be in the afternoon! This means that I can't do a respectable half- day then cut out and sightsee!!!!

BUT-I have had my first run-in with an In-and-Out burger and driven a Porche for the first time. I've run towards the mountains only to realize that they are near...but far.

And yesterday marked two months and counting until my surgery. I want to be as healthy as possible for it: strong.

My new goals are almost all fitness- related: continue with 4 hours per week of exercise; run for an hour at a time (currently at 40 minutes!); log my foods (check!). I haven't set any new weight- loss goals, mostly because I don't feel like it. I've been having some tummy issues recently, which are causing my face and tummy to bloat, even though I can see that I'm shrinking everywhere else. I took a new driver license photo last week and am flat out embarrassed at the pic: moony- faced and shiny, from the neck up I resemble the 200+ pounder I used to be. One step forward...

I am straddling a fence, I know. But this is what I can commit to right now with fidelity.

xoxo,

Sorry

2011-11-10T13:16:00.000-05:00

There are some sorry people in my life that I want to get rid of. I always try to figure out people's perspectives but when they consistently act like asses I'm unable to do that with much regularity.

Fuckers.

I, I, I-- personal blogs are often navel- gazing. But they sure are a neat record: when I re-read my blog, I also "hear" what I left unsaid.

{blouse-jcrew; pants-land's end; necklace-anthro}

I'm gearing up for a conference this week in Los Angeles. Can you believe I have been all over the world but never to the West Coast?!?!?! Wait, does Hawaii count? I told myself that it was because I was saving "tame" US trips for a time when I would be less mobile-- like when I have a little kid, or when my mom gets older and can't do extended flights. But this week I'll board a flight for a few days with other scholars...in the sun. I can't wait to run in a new place and see a new part of the country! Granted, conferences are not technically for pleasure, but they are are a nice way to shake yourself out of your comfort zone.

When I get back I'll throw down a smoke bomb, clear the premises. Toxic people get the boot. Everybody else...bring a mask.

13

Imminent

2011-11-09T05:47:00.007-05:00

Once my surgery was scheduled I started to plan my recovery. I'd hoped to recover over Christmas, when I have 6 weeks off from school and fellowship stuff, and use the long boring time of recovery to rest and write.

I decided on implant/expander surgery. This wasn't what I'd planned at all. I do not like the idea of foreign "stuff" in my body, nor am I comfortable with having a new surgery every 10 years to replace the implants. But the last photos my doc sent of the TUG surgery freaked me out. Not only that, but the surgery and recovery are shorter for implant/expander surgery. The plastic surgeron also assured me that I could do the TUG surgery (or another tissue flap surgery) later in my life--after kids, after maintaining a stable weight for a few years.

{trench- paul and joe sister; sweater-anthro; jeans-levi's; tank-h&m; bag-furla}

Anyhow, my mother promised back in April to come help during my recovery; during the first week to 10 days, I'll need a lot of help. But when I told her the date, she freaked out.

Mom: That's finals week. Can you ask the doctor about the following week?

Me: Um, it's two doctors. The surgical oncologist and the plastic surgeon. They go into surgery once a week.

Mom: I have to send in my grades. Didn't you check my schedule?

Me: I can look into hiring a home health aid for the first few days. I'll probably be sleeping most of the time anyway.

Mom: I am insulted. I can't talk about this right now.

I was confused. I know how critical the end of the semester is for professors, but mom had told me that she had plenty of leave coming, and wouldn't hesitate to take it. Also...isn't this my surgery?

But I felt as if my hands were tied: the rest of my family is in Tennessee. I have great friends, but I still consider this surgery mostly a private matter...and couldn't expect round-the-clock care from people outside of family. I wouldn't even ask for it.

The next available date for surgery is January 10, when my mom can get an adjunct or grad student to start the semester for her. I am frustrated and feel a little bullied about the whole thing. But I do realize that this is elective surgery, no matter how essential it feels to me.

So there's my new date: new year, new breasts, eh?

The Conference

2011-11-08T05:24:00.000-05:00

Two Fridays ago I was sitting in a room with 50 other black women who had all had breast cancer. Many of them had had triple negative cancers, and still others spoke of battling the disease more than once. One woman survived breast cancer but was recently diagnosed with another. I wept for her, a stranger.

One of my doctors put the conference together. I like her- she's a quirky researcher type-A type. Funny, a little cynical, a little awkward, an adoptee obsessed with genetics. This is the type of researcher I want in my corner.

{pants- talbots; top- hype}

I left even more sure of what I have to do. If you have been reading here for any amount of time, you know that I don't get overly sentimental about much. But there was something in that room: kinship, kindness...but also fear. And that is what I won't live with.

There was a woman there whose husband also attended. I will never forget her story: got cancer. battled cancer. beat cancer. And then, because of a thorough doc, found cancer again even though nothing unusual showed up on her mammogram. She said, "My husband has been my rock...he's been to every appointment, every mammogram, every treatment with me. I could not have done this if it were not for him."

I was touched. As she talked I realized something else- that thorough doctor? She's my surgical oncologist too.

I'm glad I went.

On Pain

2011-11-07T04:50:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, when I sit a certain way, I get this odd pain right around my heart. Over time, I've realized that it's actually the weight of my breasts causing the discomfort. Still, every so often I forget, and for a moment or two am sure that I'm having a heart attack when I sit up.

So I had a surgery date: December 13. I made the appointment and sat on the information for awhile, sure that if I changed my mind at least no one would be the wiser. I figured- if I get scared, I'll cancel. If the surgery starts to take over my life, I'll cancel. If I start to feel too negative about the whole deal, I'll cancel.

But a funny thing happened: after getting the date, my resolve was strengthened.

I had signed up to attend a local gynecological cancers conference where I hoped to meet others like me-- those with a family history of breast cancer who do not actually have cancer. I wanted to sit with a group and ask the question most folks ask me right off: "Aren't you just being paranoid?"

{poncho-h&m; cords-j.crew; boots- calvin klein}

So I had a date. I was all settled. The doc called to reschedule because of a conference. And that's when the shit hit the fan.

Mwah! Kissing You

2011-11-04T17:53:00.000-05:00

Thanks for hanging in while I put my life together: a rigorous writing schedule, fellowship stuff, and everyday life. I've been trying to be super- disciplined with my writing, which unfortunately does not translate to my blog. Once I shut my computer for the day I'm remiss to open it again other than to watch Medium, my new favorite show.

{dress- plenty by tracy reese; boots-frye; sweater-gap}

Yesterday morning a good friend texted me. She'd had a bad dream and wanted to talk about it. It was early-early, usually a time when I get an hour or two of work done while the rest of the world snores away. I suggested that we go for a run...she's faster than I am, so it was a great workout. (Though I'll admit that I was a little embarrassed at how heavily I was breathing.) No need for my jogger's mace with two of us, though I did wear my reflective strips. I never said I wasn't lame.

I had this dress chopped at my local tailor. I still think it's a smidge too long-- I wanted it to hit at the knee-- but I still like it. Tracy Reese is my favorite, favorite designer, and I have to stop myself from buying her stuff...especially since it seems to go on sale at multiple venues pretty often.

I wore this last Friday to a local gynecological cancers conference...but I'm not ready to talk about that just yet. How's that for a cliffhanger? Shame on me!

xoxo,

Exactly What I Wanted

2011-11-01T19:24:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I ate a ceasar salad, which I have been wanting for a very long time. It always amazes me: when I rule out routine and actually listen to my body, meals are so satisfying. For so long I didn't do this. It makes me sad-- those years wasted either eating whatever or being super- strict.

{cords- jcrew; top, jacket-anthro;shoes-lovely people}

I threw anchovies and chicken breast onto my masterpiece, and some fresh shaved parmesan. Excellent! Eating can be so pleasant.

I had a decent run this morning in spite of my days off. The body does not forget. I looked a little crazy with my blinking light and jogger's mace, but hey.

I'm not all zen about my sweets debacle a while back...I can see it in my face and arms. But I'm feeling determined and even. This week I am committing to journaling my foods, running 4 times, strength training 2 times...and listening to my body's wantings.

xoxo,
13

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T16:28:00.000-05:00

Ah, Halloween, the holiday of ghouls and sweets.

I, quite frankly, am sick of sweets, having had my fill in recent weeks.

My weight loss, not surprisingly, has ground to a halt. Screeching halt-- yes, that is more accurate. It is only in the last few days that I've pulled back, started to remember that candy is not a food group.

booties- belle by sigerson morrison

It seems that in a blink the weather has gone from later summer to Fall. My sweaters still smell of moth balls, and many of my pants from last year don't fit-- the latter a victory, I suppose, if a small one.

{jeans- levi's; sweater- LOFT; top- anthro}

This year for Halloween I am a gold digger-- see my shovel and my price tag? I can be bought! Yes, it's cheezy, and nope, I didn't buy a thing to make this costume "go." My neighbors' costumes and cocktails party was a cinch, but even just creeping next door it was far too cold for my original costume idea-- Billie Holiday. My white dress was sleeveless, and um, no. It snowed.

{leopard skinnies-current elliott; top- vince; shoes-anthro}

Instead of shoveling down goodies I am eating a yummy salad and gearing up for tomorrow's freakishly chilly run...which I desperately need!

xoxo,
13

Balance

2011-10-26T04:26:00.001-05:00

My family is losing it right now. It is as if, from four different cities, we have collectively drunk the crazy cool- aid.

Life is but a dream, no?

blouse-diane von furstenberg; pants- ann taylor

In the tailspin, my fitness and exercise has only been "ok." I don't believe in excuses, but I will say that I had a run-in with a mugger last week during my morning run. I escaped unscathed, but have been a weeeee bit hesitant to take to the road again. I bought some jogger's mace that is set to arrive this week. Not that that's a solution or anything. If I could sleep a bit more, I could run later than 5 am. Gah!

In the meantime I've been eating my head off.

It's time to cut this shit out.

Stress.Is.Not.A.Game.: my roof fell in again; my dissertation is not writing itself; the dog has been weeing on the floor recently; my family drama(s) are in play; I'm broke (see "my roof fell in again"); I've had TWO deadlines (which means working 16+ hour days) and

and

It's time to cut this shit out. I need to find some balance, and fast.

xo,

Too Cheap

2011-10-24T22:24:00.000-05:00

I was talking with a group of friends and the subject of "worth vs. value" came up. Admittedly this is something I think about a lot, given that my hippie- like ideals don't always mesh with the kind of shoes I think are beautiful.

Over cocktails, we quickly shared a coupla things we drop ducats on, and places where we skimp:

Friend A- drop: fitness apparel. (She's a triathlete.) skimp: basically anything else.

Friend B- drop: her car, organic food. skimp: clothes. Quantity and cuteness are all that matter!

Friend C- drop: clothes and shoes. skimp: her rent.

This was a hard question for me for some reason. At first I thought it was because I tend to select the best of what I can afford and just keep it moving with everything else, no hard feelings. But that isn't really true. My heart says Prius, buy my mind says BMW. Now that's a hard feeling.

{cardi- jcrew; top- corey lynn calter; pants- gap}

Skimps:

-car. Ours is 10 years old...a beater.

-hair. I rarely go to the salon. After years of relaxers, there is a lot of power in natural hair for me. No salon is part of that!

-technology. Other than my laptop, I don't really stay up to date with tech stuff, though I reckon that as a media researcher I'll be compelled to change this soon.

Drops:

-clothes, bras, bags and shoes. Duh. It is more about putting out my best self and comfort (sorry, the expensive stuff is often made WAY better- think shoes!) than being a label whore.

-hair. Wait, isn't that a skimp? I don't make salon visits, but I put out for thick, sulfate- and paraben- free leave-in and rinse-out conditioners.

-travel and education. What can I say...I'm young.

And of course, I drop ducats for food.

What do you splurge and spend on?

xoxo,
13

Going Door to Door

2011-10-18T05:38:00.001-05:00

I am one of those strange people who is both outgoing and housebound. Yes, an introvert and an extrovert, both. Schizophrenic?

Sometimes.

The last breath of my data collection requires me to go door-to-door. In my hood, a millionaire can be living next to someone on Section 8. It makes for brilliant data...and lots of diversity.

{blouse-anthro; skirt-handmade for me in ghana}

For some reason going door-to-door is irksome. Maybe because my own home is where I shed my extroverted-people-pleasing and walk my dog in 15- year-old Adidas flip flops.

I always figure others are similarly inclined, and hate to interrupt that peace with surveys.

Anyhoo.

xoxo,

Slim Gym

2011-10-17T06:29:00.000-05:00

Yesterday as I was waiting for my (African, on-African-time) local coffee shop to open (10 minutes late, hello!) I ducked into the gym next door for a tour. It's been there forever, but the university gym is crazy amazing and a little cheaper, so I never bit.

But.
But.

{dress- catherine malandrino; boots- frye}

This gym is right around the corner from my new crib. It's not as nice as our gym, and it was hot in there, but I could see it being useful when the weather dips into the single digits.

Cons: there is no swank; even a lil' stank. They could use a housekeeper.
Pros: It's black- owned and around-the-corner. One block, my friends.

Best of all, you can purchase membership by the month, so if I want to just use the gym in the chilly winter, I can.

I dunno. We'll see as the barometer drops...

xoxo,
13

Well, the Bestie Came for a Visit

2011-10-15T17:50:00.003-05:00

and all I have to show for it is another round of fun memories and these shoes. We forgot to take pics her Chimay and my vino, of playing with my VERY NAUGHTY DOG and reading InStyle magazine. Oh, well.

Matisse "nugent" wedge booties

Oh, yes. Sold out in my size all over, my clandestine super-spy powers located them on the cheap, determined that my single monthly purchase would damn well be one to remember. They manage not to be over-the-top while remaining super comfy and kinda interesting. Even better? They sort of bypass the "hello, everyone is wearing leopard right now" with a more subtle print, methinks.

I am sloooowly building a wardrobe of shoes that will take me the few blocks to campus without blisters or chafing. I am sloooowly realizing that most heels in the 3" range and above won't allow that. But I'm told by the bestie that walking comfortably in heels is a skill...

{top-vince; jeans-levi's; bag-junior drake}

I'm trying to learn it.

xoxo,
13

Snuggling Up To...

2011-10-14T18:11:00.000-05:00

As the iPhone lovers jiggle with their new gadgets, I plan on gettin' summa this:

Yes, I have a leopard bedspread. Proudly purchased and repurchased since 1999.

An honest-to-goodness, not-on-Kindle book. I wonder if anyone remembers what those are anymore?

I've been anticipating Jeffrey Eugenides' next book since-- well, since devouring his first two in succession two years ago. I am an avid reader that ironically has had to give up reading for pleasure since Graduate school. But not tonight...

xoxo,

October Brings...

2011-10-11T12:33:00.000-05:00

I have officially completed data collection for my dissertation.

I have officially had too much wine to celebrate this.

I am officially terrified that NOW I HAVE TO WRITE THIS THING.

{denim trousers- levis; top, chevron jacket- anthro; white jacket- marshall's; pink jacket- jcrew}

To celebrate my milestone, I decided to pretend that I am already a professor by working my "casual young professor" look. Okay, not really. I was really just trying to decide which jacket to wear that day.

In other news, I made a pot of magic collard greens to bring me money since my roof falling in has made me broke. That and running made something else official-- I've lost a size on top. This never happens, people.

See, the greens are working their magic already.

xoxo,
13

p.s.-- ^ I chose the white one!

S(t)aturday

2011-10-08T09:04:00.000-05:00

Well- kind of.

Eating: 7. Food is mostly good, but booze has been a bit much this week. This is odd for me, hitting the vino multiple times per week.

{shoes-lucky penny}

Exercise: 8. This week I have literally tugged myself out of bed and prayed during my entire workout just to finish. And I did.

Weight: no change.

{top-anna sui for anthro; jeans-jbrand}

The roofers are almost done, and I couldn't be happier. They're not the most professional people around. Constantly late or absent, this go round they have changed the price twice, patched over some damage rather than replace it, used an entire box of garbage bags, and left my guest room in such disarray that all I can do is shut the door.

Ugh!

xoxo,
13

Crazy Check

2011-10-06T05:18:00.000-05:00

Bestie and I have this thing where we call each other, share a situation, and ask: "Am I being crazy?"

{top- ancient; skirt- anthro}

The situation can be anything from overspending on shoes to more complex issues in relationships. The thing is, sometimes without a bit of distance from an issue, well- I can react almost on autopilot, justifying my actions based on what felt best at the time. And since I am hotheaded and sensitive (along with the contrasting qualities of being thoughtful and decisive) I call one of the people who knows me best to help talk me through it.

{shoes- elizabeth and james "kitty"}

I am having some doubts about pausing my surgery. There are good reasons for holding off-- namely the timing of the recovery, as well as just being a bit freaked out about the whole thing in general. But I keep reviewing my stats-- thinking about the reasons I opted for the surgery in the first place. As the time for another mammogram, breast exam and MRI loom, I am shocked by my clear- minded response:

You don't have to do this.

I could get the mastectomy and be done with it all.

xoxo,

Going, Going...

2011-10-04T03:38:00.000-05:00

Gone. Summer, that is. While I wait for my roof to be repaired I am kissing the cool weather.

I can't believe it's October already. Wowza. Where has the year gone?

{top- ella moss; dress-anthropologie}

I've had the running bug recently, and got a little over-zealous on some hills on Saturday. Man, am I feeling it this week! It just goes to show that surfaces really do matter!

{shoes-naya}

This top is a a little disco, a little blinged out. I happen to really like it. As I joked to my bestie, I'm hood like that. Add to this my famous nightgown-as-dress (as skirt) and my new favorite shoes and well- well.

I ran into my former next-door neighbor on the bus yesterday on my way to campus. She was an odd bird, a housebound and opinionated woman in maybe her late 50s. She lost her house a few months ago, just after we moved in. "I'm having a terrible time finding a place to live," she said. "Apartments aren't cheap anymore because so many people have lost their homes too."

I had never noticed before that she was beautiful? And tiny? Having never progressed beyond the porch, the two of us had only had a couple of conversations (one, ironically, was for her to repair a leak that was impacting our roof; the other was about products for our natural hair). She seemed frail, and her strangeness was amplified by the public nature of a crammed bus during rush hour.

Now her home is occupied by a sweet Asian family with two wee kids. They bought it at a steal and ripped out its insides, made its first floor an apartment. Planted mums and put out pumpkins and always sweep up after their tree.

There are only two black families on the block now.

xoxo,

Everything that Rises Must Converge

2011-09-29T15:08:00.000-05:00

I've spent my limited free hours with fashion magazines and Ally McBeal. A good use of time, I know.

I've been pulling out looks that feel authentic to me, that are the adjectives that I believe I would want my style to be: classic. Casual. Colorful. iguess.

Can these things go together? We shall see. This is an outfit I wore to a potluck to see a friend's new baby. When I got there, the host was doped up on pain meds she'd gotten from BREAKING HER RIB THE DAY BEFORE. She was cycling and a car door got her...damn drivers! I had one shout at me at 5:00 in the damn morning-- I mean, why?

I am so dewy these days.

In the meantime I am pretending that I am not high risk for breast cancer. That's right: I am doing nothing. I am putting off the surgery until I'm sure I'll have the time to recover. Going to a conference for others like me at the end of October. Working, exercising. Trying not to get injured.

The other thing: I am having absolutely no battles with food. None. Unless you count all the gas I'm getting from honeycrisp apples. That is truly a battle. Just ask my dog, who gets banned from the room when I blame him for the smell.

top, belt-anthro; jeans- paige; bag-junior drake

My life is pretty crazy right now as the semester jumps off. I like it.

xoxo,

Weight Loss Wednesday: Everything Seems Possible Until-

2011-09-28T03:51:00.001-05:00

You get injured.

It's the strangest feeling, one that is so, so new to me: the feeling of ability and desire...co-mingled with weakness. It's also the biggest downer ever.

I haven't posted much about running recently, mostly because I'm afraid to jinx myself. Here's the thing.

I think I cured my shin splints. It's actually embarrassing to say how, but I will in case there's some other beginner runner out there wondering what the fuck is going on below the knee.

Biggest rules of starting to run: get fitted for shoes and go slow. I did both. I went to my local running store and got fitted for a pair of Asics Gel Cumulus 13. They felt cushy, almost luxurious on my feet. The associate recommended that I order a half size up from my normal size 9.5. Then came my first set of shin splints, when I bought Superfeet inserts. Are you counting, now? I've broken $150 by this time. The inserts + two weeks off got me running injury- free...for about two weeks.

I:

-iced and elevated.
-did strengthening exercises.
-rested.

I also took my azz back to the running store, like wtf? Typical beginner injury, they said. Change surfaces. This proved to be tough because, well, I live in a city and I run in the weeeeeeee hours of the morning. Switching surfaces would mean running in park- like places, which any city- dweller knows you just don't do before sunrise. Nyap. If I'm gonna be a runner, it's going to be on well- lit asphalt or concrete.

Try a compression sleeve, they said. So I did. It helped, sometimes.

Try these new shoes, they said. After two weeks of rest I should have been fine, but I wasn't. The pain started only minutes into my runs. But I kept trying. Still counting? $220 now.

And so finally I bought some cheapie New Balance neutrals in my "street shoe" size for $40. I've been running just over two weeks with no injuries or pain (knock on wood). Dare I start to train for my 10k again?

I have no idea what I'm doing, but I suppose continuing is the most satisfactory answer...

Quickie: The Roof's on Fire

2011-09-26T19:51:00.000-05:00

Let the motherfucker burn! Not really.

But now the second floor's roof is leaking. Today we have been in our (newly refurbished) (hugely expensive) (dream) home one year. And I will celebrate with mildew settling on the walls of our guest room.

Last week's roofer is curiously absent. Call after call.

top- anthro; jeans- paige

On a good note: I have had several weeks of running without pain. Aaaaaaaah, I am trying not to push it too much. But it feels so good to run! And my body is getting that shiny look of a regular exerciser. Yay! Progress?

I wish I knew more about wtf I am doing. Can I add a day of running? More minutes? How much to strength train?

Anyhoo, plugging along...

hair- humidity

xo,

Quickie: Moving Right Along

2011-09-22T05:17:00.000-05:00

It's been a rainy, gray week here in the city of brotherly love. Thank God the roof is back on-- no puddles mildewing the carpet!

As usual, I am working like crazy on a proposal and some stuff for work. Feeling good. Running every other day these days, with fingers crossed that shin splints stay away. I have a secret solution that I will share with you kind folks this weekend. **Seriously, fingers crossed!**

pants- ann taylor; top- anthro; no-iron blouse- land's end

Yep, there's those red pants again. I can't help it...they're so fun.

There is lots going on in the blogosphere this week. As usual with social media, I am late to the party, but it makes me sad-- the infighting, the name calling, the cattiness and speculation. Not to mention a huge online swindle. It makes me wonder: how many of us represent the same personas online as in real life?

xoxo,

p.s.- did you get those apples?

Honey(crisp)

2011-09-20T05:37:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year again: ~~breast and ovarian cancer months~~ ~~school starting~~ apple time! That's right-- the official end of summer means the opening of apple season.

For those who don't know, September and October means the harvest of the world's most delicious apple ever. Never got that excited about an apple? Neither had I before I'd tasted a Honeycrisp. Sweet and juicy and delicious, it is...with just the right amount of tartness.

top-anthro geo feathers blouse; jeans-jcrew

And speaking of the end of summer, here is the final wearing of my white jeans. They're two sizes too big, but a pinch in the waist by my amazing seamstress will make them fine for next year. This top I bought in April. It was another "trick me" shirt-- it's polyester, which I try not to do. But it's so pretty that I kept it, and I have my eye on its fall twin:

In other news, I have finally signed up for a race! I'm not exactly sure I'll be able to run it with my RECURRING FUCKING SHIN SPLINTS, but it's a breast cancer run so I kind of want to do it. I don't usually get all sentimental about stuff like that, but it's around the time I wanted to start racing-- in cooler temps-- so why not?

shoes- mia shadow; bag- coach "kristin"

As for them apples...you must try them if you haven't. And not for pie, either. Get thee to a farmer's market now. Now, I say!

xoxo,
13

"Now I believe you."

2011-09-19T05:29:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I quite literally ran into a friend-- she was biking to her long run and I was finishing up a coupla miles with Naughty Dog. By this time I was dragging his ass, tired as he was from yanking the flexi- leash to chase squirrels. Some background: my friend is a real runner. I watched her and another friend run a marathon in our second year of coursework. She literally "runs" errands.

When we met for dinner some time ago, I asked her about my shin splints and if she had any tips for a beginner. And today, do you know what she said? "Now I know you were telling the truth!"

{too- long jeans-levis;jacket-anthro;top-gap}

Now. I know that many of my buds can be awkward, this one especially. It was 6:45 am, and I am without my typical accouterments (i.e., makeup, real clothes). But when she said that, I was pizzed. Tha fuck?

I have found that people will always find something to feel smug about: their schools, their finances, their athletic ability, their clothes. People even get that superior feeling from recycling or having great hair. There is that "I know something you don't" mentality that for a swift moment bolsters our egos. Fat cats who swallowed canaries, we are.

I suppose it is human nature.

Hmph,

Fashion Week: Anthro, Meet Goodwill

2011-09-16T04:25:00.002-05:00

Last December or so, I got tired of feeling out-of-sorts each time an event surfaced. I often felt only "okay" with what I wore, rationalizing that the last thing an Ivy League doctoral candidate needed to be known for was being "cute." Feminism is a cornerstone of our coursework, and "too pretty" = "not a serious scholar." I got over it, but still struggle with the "Wow, you have lots of clothes" comments (translation: "Wow, you are materialistic") or the rolled eyes of my thrifting/ dumpster diving buds.

I had been rotating the same 10 or so outfits after finally admitting that I'd gained some poundage that wasn't easily going away. Rather than wait until I lost weight, I got rid of all of my too- tight clothes and started over-- with some fits and starts. Here are the pieces my naysayers can go pick up at our local Goodwill:

1. This top ( above left). Bought it on a $19.95 whim. Not sure what I was thinking except "Wow! $20!" Those jeans got the boot too: too light, too tight, too long-- all wrong.

2. This top- the famous wind- rippled tee (right). It seemed like a nice idea at the time. But the puckers and darts and flowers made my already full bust...further burst forth. I'll stick to plain white tees instead.

3. The super- flare jeans (left). It wasn't the cut, it was the color. I'm sorry, I'm a dark-denim-only girl. I really tried with these jeans, though...I also wasn't nuts about the tightness through the thigh area. I know that's the way they are supposed to look, but in the light wash, all of those things added up to too "retro" for me.

4. This jacket (below). I bought this jacket at full price because I loved it, and it was one of my go- to pieces last summer. But each time I wore it, I got the nagging feeling that I was in love with the jacket, but not necessarily how the jacket looked on me. Meaning- the sleeves stop at the widest part of my arms...unflattering. The top (polyester) and pants (now too big) went in the box too.

5. This top (and the belt, left). Though not from Anthro, these pieces are anthro- esque, and got lots of compliments when I posted them. But again...they got no play. And the top was only a few dollars anyway. Seeing a theme here?

6. This top (below right). I am actually on the fence about this one. I mean, it's polka dots! But then again, as I try to envision my personal style...I am quizzical about how dots fit in, haha. I do enough with color!

This fall and winter, I'll be adding fewer pieces. I'll be remixing more as I seek to find a personal style-- not just a store. And while I value my time to try on new duds, I anticipate purchasing much, much less from good ol' Anthro. I'll also have things tailored down rather than purchase new stuff, and I'll be actively seeking investment pieces I want to take up residence in my closet for years and years.

Sounds good to me!

xoxo,

Weight Loss Wednesday: OMG, You're so Plastic

2011-09-14T06:00:00.003-05:00

Plastic surgery appointment #2 went better than the first: the doc talked to me as if I were a real person. And she actually smiled.

{skirt- OLD; top- ella moss; sweater-anthro}

She also sent me pics of a black woman who'd had the surgery I'm considering, and it freaked me out. The depth of the scars was much more pronounced than when viewed on our peach- skinned counterparts-- who, incidentally, make up 100 percent of the images I'm able to find online.

Now I'm torn: am I back to implants? They leave a nice, sweet scar that only my eyes would see. Or should I screw the whole thing? (No.) Quite frankly, I'm confused but know that if I'm to use December to recover, I'll need to schedule the surgery soon. But the idea of implants seems strange to me.

I'm confused, but not all angst-y. I will figure this out.

xoxo,

On Chemises and Ceilings

2011-09-13T04:04:00.007-05:00

This was my ceiling on Thursday morning.

Yes, that's it on the floor there. At 5am, it was a nice early morning surprise. Kind of like a new flavor of creamer you'd put in your coffee. One more:

Okay. Did I mention that this is our bedroom? Let's just say I'm a little stressed. So don't be angry at me for trying to pass off a nightgown as "real" clothes. Anthropologie calls it a chemise, and chemise en francaise= shirt. Cough. (Hey, I got lots of compliments on this dress/nightie! I've worn it twice already!)

{harmonious pairings chemise- anthro}

I typically stay away from browns, because colors close to a skin tone can look strange. But this cinnamon-y number made gave me the boost to call 20 roofers 3-4 times and reschedule appointments/interviews/work while I waited on them to show up Friday and Saturday. Only two did. ONE EACH DAY.

Now, I know there was a hurricane, and I know that roofs in Philly are leaking at crazy rates. But if you say you're coming, you'd better show the fuck up. Because if you don't, I'll--

wear a nightgown as a dress. Powdow on dat azz.

Pray for sunny days, k? Or at least for the buckets to catch it all.

sigh,
13

Fatso

2011-09-12T03:39:00.003-05:00

I took the dog to the vet yesterday and for the third year in a row, she noted: the dog is obese.

That's right: our 7- pound rescued Bichon/ Maltese mix is now...almost 14 pounds. With an 11- pound goal weight, me and the Naughty Dog share similar weight- loss hopes.

Naughty Dog emails his friends, the Pound Puppies.

It's kinda funny. Not really. But the similarities are odd: we don't give him scraps and keep him on high- quality food. Not too many treats, and those are lower- calorie or lean meat.

Doc gave me the okay to run with him (little dogs shouldn't run regularly until they're adults). So...starting tomorrow, ND will be joining me on my morning jaunt.

Sigh.

Most Worn: Summer

2011-09-08T15:46:00.000-05:00

I was surprised when thinking about the pieces that I liked best this summer. After a billion dresses, several tops, and even shorts, here's what managed to make the Most Worn list:

1. Red pants. I know, I know. I just got them. But I've worn these bitches three times already. Maybe in a row. Maybe not.

2. Orange linen pants. I wore 'em in Africa, I wore 'em in Philly, I wore 'em in Florida. They stretched waaaaaay out and I had 'em altered. And then I wore 'em again.

3. The floral silk blouse + striped skirt. I love this outfit and threw it on when I needed to look put together/creative. You know, when I wanted to look like myself. I loved the blouse so much I bought it in two colors.

4. The bright- ass pink maxi skirt. I wore this one all over the map too, including Tennessee, Florida, and a bunch of parties. Oh, and church. Just cause you only see it one time on the blog, don't think it only got one wear! And the biggest surprise? It's machine- washable polyester, which I overlooked when I bought it AT FULL (non- cheap) PRICE. However...I will be picking up its deeper- hued sister post haste. How can I not?

5. Ethnic print maxi. Oh, how I love this skirt: lightweight, beautifully printed, and lovely. And then of course I went to Africa and purchased several of its authentic cousins, which were actual pieced- together remnants of finely- textured cotton. But I will take my Americanized version too.

What were your favorite summer pieces?

xoxo,
13

Labor of Love

2011-09-06T04:49:00.001-05:00

So Labor Day is the last day of summer, huh? When I lived down South, it was just another day. But up here, it can almost seem as if switch was flipped from summer to fall. And so, in honor of the coming cool, here are a couple of things I'm loving for fall:

1. TUG reconstructive surgery (link=medical nudity). That's right, chubby thighs become a boob. I can get with it. I was recommended for this by my breast surgeon, though the plastic surgeon seemed less excited about this route. I have another appointment booked to pick her brain about it.

2. Tweed. Oh, God. It must be the professor in me. I.CANNOT.GET.ENOUGH.

3. Temps. As much as I love the summer, I only love, love it when I'm on the ocean. Which I WAS NOT this summer. It was hot as hell. You know when it's hotter in a Northeastern city than in Western Africa that something's got to give. Oh, and cooler temps = easier runs.

4. Money. After a long summer stretch budgeting a meager lump sum, I'll be paid regularly again. What's that, you say? Time for my yearly handbag? I'd have to agree:

Yes, Badgley Mischka. I love you too.

5. The return of J.Crew. After several years of lackluster offerings (IMO), I opened the September catalogue and wanted everything, just like the old days.

6. Hair. Cooler temps mean less humidity, which means a return to hair styling that isn't a) wet (ugh!); or b) unpredictable. Well...as unpredictable.

Love, love love it all,
13

I Can't Get Enough of...

2011-09-04T10:48:00.000-05:00

The Runners World forums. I don't post, but I read-- a LOT.

After a shitty couple of weeks on pause for shin splints (again), I got fitted for a new pair of shoes (again-3rd pair!). My goal is to hit the trail (again), but this time, for shorter runs. Maybe slowing things down will keep this horrible shin pain away.

{dress- anthropologie}

I've noticed that when my running if off, my food tends to be off too: you know, the fuckit syndrome. I've been doing exercises for my shins and am planning to find some better surfaces to run on, which should help, as well as alternating sides of the road.

All of this was learned from reading a damn forum. I do love the information age...

Ro's doing a neat tag, and today's random thought is: one habit you wish you didn't have.

That's easy...I freeze before jumping to action. Sometimes the freeze makes me miss out on things: a great job or an opportunity to lead. I get scared, so I just stop. And by the time I've gotten my wits about me, there is the added pressure then to do things fast to make up for what I missed. The fuckit syndrome is a perfect example of this: I stop eating well knowing that I'll eventually eat well again, but in the meantime I'm all "Look out, pizza!" And I do dumb things like gain six pounds.

The freeze is over, folks. Now it'll be back to my regularly scheduled running and weight loss.

Carry on!

xoxo,

Oh, Whoops

2011-09-02T02:45:00.000-05:00

I forgot I had a blog for a minute.

I also apparently forgot that I was trying to lose weight.

But hey, pics don't lie. I'm up six total pounds now.

I'm trying to get over this "I'm so disappointed in myself" bs and just keep moving. But I can't help it: I'm a little disappointed in myself. It's almost as if I can't focus on more than one disaster at once: roof leaking? blow your eating plan! Two presentations in a row? Have a cookie at lunchtime! Scheduled another appointment with the disappearing plastic surgeon? Mmmmm, panini!

I need to get back to tracking, stat. "Overwhelmed" just can't be an excuse anymore...

xoxo,

Raise the Roof! (Or Just Repair It)

2011-08-29T05:24:00.000-05:00

Yes. Our little hurricane left our little roof with some substantial damage. I knew from last week's rains that it was going to get worse...and it did:

Why, yes. Those buckets and garbage cans are indeed catching rain.

Since I don't want to talk about homeowners insurance or water damage or mildew, here is a pretty dress for your viewing pleasure instead. When I wore this dress, a woman I hadn't seen in a year said, "Oh my God, you've lost so much weight!" (which I can't see at all for the flab on my arms and my puffy face) and some random dude very sweetly and respectfully stopped me in the street and said, "Miss...no disrespect, but you are truly beautiful." All nice, with no ogling or panting. ('Preciate cha, sir. You made my day.)

dress- anthro; shoes-gucci;belt-h&m

Drip, drip, drip....whose idea was it to buy a 100- year old Victorian, anyway?

le sigh,
13

High Tea in a Hurricane

2011-08-27T22:16:00.002-05:00

My granny is traditional, yes. She wears pearls and Ferragamo and Louis Vuitton and went to Harvard.

And today she hosted high tea at the start of our second natural disaster this week...a hurricane. It was cool, actually-- I got to meet some of her friends from high school. They are a fun and rowdy bunch. Or about as rowdy as five giggling elderly black women can be.

dress-maeve by anthropologie

We ate in the old Cassatt mansion, where my granny is living now. It's really beautiful: crown moldings and a baby grand piano and a winding staircase...there is even a servant's bell. Not bad for a nursing home. I mean senior living community. It's classy. Mad Clessy.

Anyhoo, the tea went spectacularly, or at least as well as it could have gone given the fact that there was a torrential downpour outside, no gas at the gas stations, no batteries or water, and no candles. In spite of this, everyone and their mother (okay- everyone and their grandmother) seemed to be out-- the trip out to the burbs was nearly doubled from traffic.

This reminds me of my old college days in Florida when we'd wait out the hurricanes: there is quiet anxiety coupled with who-gives-a-fuck excitement.

Sorry for cussing, granny,

Earthquake: Complementary

2011-08-24T19:25:00.001-05:00

I have been waiting for two weeks for the plastic surgeon's office to respond to an emailed list of questions about my surgery...and I'm mad.

The breast surgeon was so sweet and positive! Her counterpart, on the other hand, seemed detached and impersonal. Thing is, I have heard that both are the best, and that they work pretty well together. Complement each other, if you will.

{top- gap; skirt- velvet via anthro}

Yesterday's earthquake shook me the fuck up. I was at home and felt the entire house positively sway. I went next door and asked the workmen, who are prepping a house for a new family, if they'd done any demolition that might shake the houses. And then some of the neighborhood kids ran up screaming, "Miss 13! Miss 13! There was an earthquake! We felt it too!"

We felt it too.

Sometimes I wonder how much of my feelings about this whole boob thing are universal. There's the anger, then the action, then the frustration of dealing with people who say, "Isn't that a little extreme?"

Extreme to me is putting off a surgery that reduces the risk of getting a disease that both my parents, both my female grandparents, and my dead sister had. Brave are those who can bear to keep their breasts with such a family history...

I'm not brave. I'm practical. When the earthquake hit I sent my family a text telling them we were all fine. I checked the gas lines and rang the doorbell of the oldest woman on our little block to make sure she was okay. I am similarly practical about this: mammograms and MRIs and ultrasounds to catch a disease that is already there or chopchop and reduce my risk down to teensy percentages? It wasn't a hard call for me.

I went out for drinks, passing folks who were dancing in the street yelling "We survived!"

xoxo,
13

Quickie: Back in the Saddle

2011-08-23T12:46:00.000-05:00

So I'm back from my running injury and feeling good. I think. Of course, post- injury I have to cut back mileage, which pushes me back to a plan I wasn't crazy about. Well, a plan whose lack of rest days I wasn't crazy about. I decided to take two rest days and add strength to cross training days. Iguess.

{skirt-maiya; top-jcrew}

I feel a little silly. I don't know a thing about running, and there seems to be so much to know: stride, pace, base- building, recovery, cross- training. But I'm out there...reading all I can and hoping I learn something that keeps me from killing my shins.

{shoes-lucky penny via anthropologie}

Anyhoo. The academic year has unofficially started again so I'm back in the saddle there too.

10K, here I come...

xoxo,
13

Weekly Wrap- up: S(t)aturday

2011-08-20T11:53:00.000-05:00

Whelp, another week has passed. This was an unusually light week for me: other than a few hours of data collection, I've had nothing pressing on my plate. I've used the time to clean...plus spend a ridiculous number of hours watching Being Erica. You know I do just love those stories where women reinvent themselves.

Workouts: 2. I know. The low number is for a couple of reasons: 1) I am afraid to wreck this shin. I've been doing strengthening exercises and icing, but I'll admit, I'm downright terrified of the pain. 2) I revamped my diet (which was on its way to being VERY VERY bad) and have felt gross. I know this is normal as my body adjusts to good foods again and rids itself of sugars...but still. I think I could have pushed through it, especially if I'd chosen a low- impact workout like weight training.

Eating, rating from 1 to 10: 9. I've done well, and my skin and tummy are thanking me: smaller portions of meats, veggies, fruit, and a grain or two here and there.

Weight: +2. This is to be expected after a week of eating shenannigans. And this is after this week's effort to get things back on track. I always feel bad admitting that I gained. But I did.

All in all not a miserable week, but not a super- productive one either. When exercise and eating are in tandem, I expect fireworks!!!! But until I can do both I know that I'll maintain at best...next week will be better.

Back to the grind next week as I gear up for conferences and my fellowship for next year.

xoxo,

On Weakness

2011-08-18T05:41:00.001-05:00

This week, sidelined from Bridge to 10K, I've been doing the elliptical. Imagine my surprise when I felt good cranking it up to a super- high level-- proof that my fitness level has improved through all this running. I lifted some weights as well, knowing that I have needed to get consistent with that for awhile.

{jacket, necklace- anthro; belt- jcrew}

But the thing is, I've been weak and irritable and tired. Too tired to run even if I didn't have shin splints. I'm eating cleanly but don't really feel like it. And I certainly don't feel like it if it's the cause of my feeling so crummy. Maybe I'm missing the runner's high? (I didn't even know I'd had one.)

Last week's appointment (and subsequent confusion) also made me feel weak emotionally. Normally I am confident and decisive, but that day found me weeping on a public bench on the phone with my mom.

{dress- splendid; shoes- charlotte ronson}

Ugh, I hate feeling so out of it. Hopefully the addition of some good carbs will make tomorrow's run easier.

xoxo,
13

Weight Loss Wednesday: On Stretch Marks

2011-08-17T05:22:00.000-05:00

I have them: most prominently on my arms and breasts. They've always been there, though admittedly appear more visible when my weight is up. They are not from being fat (though at 208 pounds I was very fat), nor from having children. I remember having stretch marks in the third grade, when I also grew boobs and had my first period.

When I lived in Florida I had a sort of permanent tan, I noticed the stretch marks on my arms seemed to respond to tanning-- they were darker and thus less noticeable.

When I notice my stretch marks in pictures, my first instinct is to photoshop them out. (If I knew how to work photoshop, that is.) But then that would be lying, and I can't lie here: I hate them.

Naughty Dog likes photos

I do hate them. I hate them. I got over the ones on my arms, but the ones on my breasts give me the sads. I have 30 camisoles to keep my breasts covered in even moderately low v-neck tops and dresses. So now as I consider options for reconstruction, a little voice in my head keeps asking, "Will they cut my stretch marks off too?"

{dress, tracy reese via anthro; belt- anthro; shoes- mia shadow}

The answer is mostly no. I feel a little guilty feeling bad about it. I mean, this isn't a boob job-- I am doing this to extend my life and improve my physical and emotional well- being. It seems silly to worry about how my breasts will look when the purpose of this whole surgery is to reduce my risk of breast cancer.

It's silly, I know, but I feel sometimes like my stretch marks say to the world, "This woman does not care about herself."

And I do.

xoxo,
13

Plastic Surgery Woes

2011-08-15T05:25:00.003-05:00

Last week was my trip to the plastic surgeon's office. She is the second half of my prophylactic mastectomy, given the charge of reshaping my body after my breasts are gone. She'll either form new "breasts" for me or make space for implants during the long surgery.

I didn't expect to leave the office so upset, crying. Unlike being upstairs, I wasn't in the oncology ward, so I thought I'd be spared the you're- a- cancer- patient/you're- not- a- cancer- patient ups and downs that come from sitting my perfectly healthy self across from women about to be called in for chemo. There was a quick intake process with almost no wait.

From my breast surgeon had come the idea of using fat from my thighs to shape new breast mounds. I had never heard of this. It is called the TUG procedure, and is done on women without the sufficient abdominal fat to create a new breast-- that is, women who are either small, have had previous abdominal surgeries, or like me, have never had children.

The plastic surgeon talked most about waiting until after children so that I'd have a fat pocket to remove to form a new breast. And she talked about implants. I was not interested in either. I mean, I could wait, but wait until what? Until I have kids (not happening anytime soon)? Until I have cancer (my sister was diagnosed only a few years from the age I am now)?

And as for implants-- I just don't know. The process for expanding the muscle in which to place the implant seems so scary to me. And while I wouldn't mind perky, perfect boobs, I don't even use silicone in my hair-- I'm not sure how I would feel about putting it in my body. To make matters worse, I'd need new boobs every 10 years or so, which would mean an additional surgery each time.

{blouse- lucky; shorts-target}

I went to the appointment alone and then walked over to main campus to take the bus. I could hardly keep it together. I'm still hardly keeping it together. The thing is, I don't know what my problem is: is it that I was suddenly asked to reconsider my options? Was it that the plastic surgeon, highly recommended, was a bit cool (I was told to expect this from her)? That the breast surgeon and plastic surgeon didn't seem to agree on which procedure is best for me...? And if they can't agree, how the fuck am I-- a layperson-- supposed to figure it out?

I am SICKSICKSICK of this drama. I want the breasts gone so that I can move on, finish my fucking dissertation, and stop thinking about breast cancer every day.

Weekend Roundup: S(t)aturday

2011-08-13T17:25:00.000-05:00

Weekly Stats:

Workouts: 4. I feel good about the 10K training: challenged, but not overwhelmed. And thank God it's cooled down to the 60s in the mornings these days. Except...

Completed Workouts: 2. Why only 2 completed workouts? I'll tell you why. SHIN SPLINTS. Limping three miles home is sad and pitiful, so I have recently begun to take a bus token on my runs. This weekend I am icing, medicating, and stretching with the hope the Monday will make for a better go at it. If not, it's back to the elliptical or the bike I go...in the dark, dusty basement. I'm also researching proper running form to ensure that my stride isn't the culprit for these injuries. Any advice? I've been fitted for shoes and orthotics...

{capacious trousers, necklace- anthro; top- jones new york}

Eating, rating from 1 to 10: 2. My stomach has been a veritable garbage can. As Miesha said, I've been A COMPLETE DONKEY, lol. Must be something in the water. I would feel ashamed but what's the point? I am cutting back a little next week, pulling back from grains for a bit.

Weigh- in: Skipping it this week because of that ^^, but should be on track for a decent weigh- in next week. A lady never tells her age or her weight, but I do share the pounds lost and gained. Course, the other rule is that a lady's words are always sweet, so I guess I stopped being a lady awhile ago. Oh, well.

Saturdays are days of endless errands--grocery shopping, dry cleaners, store returns, and the post office were the culprits today-- but in the evenings after laundry and cleaning I do get a bit of downtime. Soooo, I'm introducing S(t)aturday to keep track of my stats and EAT CLEAN on Fridays, when I usually booze it up and/or eat chicken wings. Okay...sometimes I eat sushi but usually it's something fatty like SAUSAGE PIZZA. With chicken wings.

Hope your weekend is all gravy, baby,

Guru: A Fun Word

2011-08-12T05:48:00.000-05:00

Sounds like a friendly pet or something, no? Guru indeed.

So you know I was trying to figure out which training plan to do: Hal Higdon's or the Bridge to 10K. At first it was super easy for me to make the decision-- I chose Higdon's because it starts me precisely where I am right now and progresses slowly. But a coupla days in, I decided I wanted a day off. And there wasn't one.


world's most boring outfit. but hey, I was helping someone pack. and I lurve this dress.

So, you guessed it: I am using the Bridge program, which, though it takes me back to (useless? confusing?) intervals, allows me the flexibility to have a day off when I feel like it.


ben franklin bridge, yo

My intervals weren't that bad...at one minute, they were hardly long enough to bring my heart rate down. I still don't understand why they're there, but whatever. I suppose as a beginner I will defer to the fitness gurus who've gone before me.

Yesterday was also my consult with the plastic surgeon. I liked her, though not as much as the surgical oncologist. She made some recommendations, including one that I...consider everything. I felt frustrated. One of the most challenging things about this process is trusting another person's expertise (medicine) with my body.

I am ready to have this fucking surgery and move on. More on that later, gator.

xoxo,

Taste Bud(dies)

2011-08-11T05:17:00.000-05:00

I am pretty lucky to be blessed with close friends with incredible taste. Fashionable to a fault, one has a unique urban style while the other is casual downtown chic. I mean, these girls are fly.

As for me? My style in 3 words or less?

How the fuck should I know? That's why I play around with clothes so much. I'm attempting to find my style niche.

These two are also my taste buds: we like food. I mean...we really like food. We are all from Tennessee, so the magic combo of showing love through food is in our roots.

Bestie #1 and I try new restaurants everywhere from downtown Manhattan to West Philly. And bestie #2 and I seem always to be on a diet together (remember the maple syrup-lemon juice-cayenne mix that Beyonce supposedly used? Yeah.). As we've gotten older, we've struggled with a little more jiggle around the hips (for her) and the arms (for me). We've swapped our college J.Crew obsession with Anthro and Saks Fifth Avenue.

Our taste in food has matured too...can't help it. Snacking has been replaced with brunch, complete with mimosas and fresh fruit. Alluring it is, the opportunity to gab over savory treats: fluffy eggs, fat slices of bacon...gimme some quiche, baby. Mmmm.


{dress- OLD; belt, bangle- anthro}

I tripped up to New York for the weekend to see bestie #1, and she made me a waffle. I love her. I fretted and she whisked. I laughed and she passed me the Korean version of Little Debbie snack cakes. Even after I yelled at her cat. (Who is bad.)

So yeah, they're my best buds. But they're also my taste buddies.

Do you and your friends come together over food?

xoxo,
13

Swiped from Dee: Random Thoughts

2011-08-10T05:54:00.001-05:00

1. Yesterday I pulled a muscle in my back...trying to open a bottle of Riesling.

2. Sometimes I sweat so much that it runs down my legs (like pee). And no...not just when I'm running. Brazilian buzz and cotton panties help less than you'd think. Hey, you're the one still reading.

3. My newest netflix obsession is Brothers and Sisters.

{shirt, cuff, neacklace- anthro; pants- ann taylor}

something equally bright

4. Last week, I bought two pairs of red pants. This is the pair that won out. Next week, I'll exchange the losing pair for something equally bright...

5. I meet with the plastic surgeon tomorrow, and I'm scurrrrrrred. I always get the feeling that the conversation will shift to my thighs. Or my batwing arms, or my butt cellulite. Then what do I say: "Take it all, doc!"?

6. Running= more shin splints! I will survive...I will.

7. This weekend I visited an abandoned jail with some out-of-town guests, and saw Al Capone's cell. (There was a wingchair and a persian rug in it.)

Enough? Okay, a couple more:

8. My favoritest color combo right now is teal and red. Or teal and purple. Or teal and yellow. I can't wait until Fall to play around with teal + a deeper autumnal palette.

see?

9. I am getting old. I've used retin-a to preserve my sexy for years but right now...can't deal with the burning, peeling skin! WHAT? DID YOU JUST CALL ME OLD?
10. I didn't cut my hair. This baby bun is easy (and wet), so it keeps me cool on super hot days. It also makes me look like I have a moon head.

I LOVE these pants. I got them as a "you just quit the job from hell" gift to myself-- not to mention "you just got money after working for free for two months" gift to myself. I had a similar pair my first years in New York after undergrad and I remember strutting down 125th street feeling like a hot tamale...my scale is stuck but I'm feeling a wee bit slimmer these days. These pants are a celebration, a non scale victory.

xoxo,
hot tamale

Weight Loss Wednesday: Change is at the bottom...

2011-08-03T22:18:00.001-05:00

I didn't talk about it much, but this job I just rolled off of threw me for a loop. Basically, I was miserable. I had people question my integrity; I was treated as a camp counselor rather than a professional. I worked twice the stated hours for not a dime more pay (paid two months late!), and my dissertation research suffered. All this for money.

Last summer, on a tight writing deadline, I didn't work for pay at all. And I was miserable and broke, feeling silly for needing an "allowance" for things like coffee or hair care products. (I do realize that as a married person, feeling silly about using shared funds was my own issue.)

So this year I swung the pendulum too far in the other direction. At one point, I had three gigs going, and oh yeah, my dissertation. And I hated it. During that shaky time from March to April when I waited for the results of my DNA analysis, I found myself wanting to rest and pray...without the time to devote to either. It is the saddest of sads-- the process of working and working when you'd rather be still. When you'd rather grieve. When you'd rather actualize the peace of mind you'd like to have.

Sometimes you have to hit bottom before you change. And sometimes, change is simply what's at the bottom of your purse: you know, a scraping-it-together-while-the-cashier-waits-with-an-bored-look-on-her-face annoyance. A shit-I -can't- believe- I- can't- do- my- run- today phenomenon. You know, something different. (But hopefully, something good.)

My life...is changing.

xoxo,

Finish What You Started

2011-08-01T04:37:00.004-05:00

Thanks to all of you who commented on my last post. I was heartened by all of your kind words, shared experiences, and votes of confidence and encouragement. I can't tell you how much they meant to me.

I've been waffling about how best to train for a 10K: Hal Higdon's Training Method or Bridge to 10K. This week I've pretty much just been doing 3 miles while I decide....and, you know, thinking about doing more. Contemplating it. (For shame.)

see? don't I look contemplative?

Higdon's plan (below) has shorter runs, and includes strength training, cross training and stretches. It slooooowly builds until you're running a 10K after 8 weeks. The downside is that there is only one rest day, and I know I do better with two.

It seems like a "suck it up" kind of caveat, but I know myself. I need two rest days or I get grumpy. (And frazzled and resentful and...)

Training for your first 10-K

Week	Mon	Tue	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat	Sun
1	Stretch & strength	2.5 m run	30 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	40 min cross	3 m run
2	Stretch & strength	2.5 m run	30 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	40 min cross	3.5 m run
3	Stretch & strength	2.5 m run	35 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	50 min cross	4 m run
4	Stretch & strength	3 m run	35 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	50 min cross	4 m run
5	Stretch & strength	3 m run	40 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	60 min cross	4.5 m run
6	Stretch & strength	3 m run	40 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	60 min cross	5 m run
7	Stretch & strength	3 m run	45 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	60 min cross	5.5 m run
8	Stretch & strength	3 m run	30 min cross	2 m run + strength	Rest	Rest	10-K Race

Bridge (below) gets you the mileage right away. But of course that means you are running 6 miles (give or take a bit) right away. The nervous nelly part of me keeps thinking that I'm not ready for that. The upshot is that it takes care of my 4 hours of exercise per week without too many add- ons. Plus, those exercise days can, like couch to 5K, be staggered and switched through the week, which is good when trying to avoid random record high temps in the heart of summer. But it does take me back to intervals, which ugh- just ugh. Starting and stopping SUCKS once you've got a momentum going.

Each workout includes a 5 minute warmup walk and 5 minute cooldown walk
Week 1	Duration: 53 min. Run 10 min/walk 1 min Repeat x 4.
Week 2	Duration: 57 min. Run 15 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 3.
Week 3	Duration: 63 min. Run 17 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 3.
Week 4	Duration: 66 min. Run 18 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 3.
Week 5	Day 1: Duration: 55 min. Run 22 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 2.Day 2: Duration: 61 min. Run 25 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 2.Day 3: Duration: 71 min. Run 30 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 2.
Week 6	Duration: 70 min. Run 60 min.

Anyhow, Josie's challenge will serve to get my ass off the fence and back in a training plan. I'll letcha know which one I choose.

{skirt-LOFT; top- Anthro; belt- half moon under}

Has anyone had any experience with either of these?

xoxo,
13

Winner, Winner!

2011-07-31T06:36:00.000-05:00

Thanks to all of you who entered the Ghana bracelet giveaway.

The winner is...Kelly from The Startup Wife! Congrats, Kelly! For everyone else, check out Kelly's blog on life, marriage, and writing...she's incredibly insightful and funny.

Kelly, contact me at thirteenlbs@gmail.com to collect your prize!

xoxo,
13

As Close as Humanly Possible

2011-07-28T07:27:00.000-05:00

So.

I have a tentative timeline for my surgery. My new doc is amazing: kind, intuitive, and smart. After a breast exam, we talked some about the type of mastectomy options for me. Her goal as the surgical oncologist is to reduce my risk of breast cancer by taking as many breast cells (tissue) as possible. If she removes my nipple, my risk of developing breast cancer drops to 1-4%. Then the plastic surgeon builds me new fake boobs and everyone lives happily ever after. Unless that sneaky 1% of cells manage to regenerate.

Hey, it's been known to happen.

I am beyond happy that I waited the three months to see her instead of sticking with her creepy counterpart. Doctors often seem to forget what a huge decision and sacrifice these surgeries are. I really wanted someone who understood what I am giving up: breastfeeding. All feeling in my "breasts." 6 weeks of movement during recovery. And don't forget real breasts and nipples, whoa. To treat this as if I'm shopping for a handbag or something is a huge, huge, huge insult. The other doc propped his feet up, for goodness sakes.

Anyhow. I've got to get as close to my goal weight as possible before the surgery. Today's second go at Bridge to 10Kwent okay. I realized that I have the same feeling about this as I did when I first (secretly) started Couch to 5k: scared that this will whip my azz. Scared people will watch my black azz and boobs jiggling down the street and snicker. Yeah, sometimes I'm self- conscious like that.

{dress- jcrew; belt, scarf- anthro}

You see, this distance 4 times a week would make me an honest-to-goodness runner. A runner-runner. And that label would mean more work, more training, more effort. As with C25K, I am worried about giving up before I've started.

Y'all know I'm not going to lie to you. I have been smaller before, done this before. These days I'm trying to make sure I don't have to do it again. If I start a rigorous training program and don't make it through, I fear the failure will send me tumbling backwards.

That feeling again: can I do this? Am I strong enough for this?

xoxo,
13

Bridge to 10K: Maybe Later

2011-07-25T06:13:00.001-05:00

After a great weekend and doc's visit, I was all hopeful that I could post today about my triumphant completion of W1, D1 of Bridge to 10K. But things don't always work out the way I'd hoped. It's a 6- week program that should have me running close to 6 miles 3-4 times weekly in 6 weeks.

The workout looks like this:

Each workout includes a 5 minute warmup walk and 5 minute cooldown walk
Week 1	Duration: 53 min. Run 10 min/walk 1 min Repeat x 4.
Week 2	Duration: 57 min. Run 15 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 3.
Week 3	Duration: 63 min. Run 17 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 3.
Week 4	Duration: 66 min. Run 18 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 3.
Week 5	Day 1: Duration: 55 min. Run 22 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 2.Day 2: Duration: 61 min. Run 25 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 2.Day 3: Duration: 71 min. Run 30 min/walk 1 min. Repeat x 2.
Week 6	Duration: 70 min. Run 60 min.

I'm not happy about returning to intervals-- it seems like taking several steps backward-- but this morning my ass was appropriately kicked. I suppose, as with C25k, I need to trust the process. What can I say? I was hot. I had potty problems. I was dehydrated. My shin started to bug me. I did about half the workout before limping my ass right back home...all before 6 am.

{top- jcrew; skirt- anthro}

I will be back out there tomorrow...you just watch, damn Bridge to 10K! I will beat you too!

I'm not giving up.

xoxo,

Sorry for Myself: A Happy Friday Post

2011-07-22T05:51:00.000-05:00

So.

All week I've been a bit melancholy: there's this crummy gig, leaks in this giant house, crazy heat, and my upcoming doc's appointment. The visits never fail to freak me out, even in my attempts to be rational about them. Self, I say. It's just a hospital. It's just a cancer ward. It's just an MRI/plastic surgery consult/surgical oncology consult/mammogram/breast exam. And then I take some deep breaths and freak out some more.

It is what it is.

I suppose recognizing that these appointments are stressful has made my decision for surgery easier, if nothing else.

{top- anthro; belt- h&m}

I read some new books to distract myself. Do some try- ons at my favorite store. Exercise. Play with the Naughty Dog. Take photos of kids. Eat watermelon. You know, healthy behaviors. But in the back of my mind...I think I am a little angry at my body for not being fully healthy. Damn you, hereditary breast cancer!

I'll get over it...iguess.

{skirt- loft}

But I did say that this was a happy Friday post, no? And what makes everyone happy? Polka dots, duh. And booze, which I will have later in the form of a mojito. This weekend is our little street's block party...on the hottest day of the year, of course (103 degrees! Is this really Mexico?).

I am thinking of buying one of those little inflatable pools and just sitting it it.

xoxo,
13

Weight Loss Wednesday: Stuff I Love, Stuff I hate

2011-07-20T05:59:00.000-05:00

Naughty Dog preys on his owners by following them around looking cute and splitting his affections based on how hungry he is (me) or how much he wants to play (lovebug). I feel so... used. Like a play toy.

Which got me thinking about my new play toy.

{dress- joie; belt- south moon under}

I am taking a pause from running this week because of the intense heat-- the humidity here has been a thousand percent all week, and I cannot seem to run very far when my body is threatening to keel over with every step. But next week will see a cooldown so I'll be out there trucking. I mean tracking.

See my new friend?

Early on in this running thing, I was having trouble figuring out just how far my body was taking me. I mean, "I ran to the end of the block" notwithstanding, I just had no idea how much distance I'd covered. And quite frankly, it didn't matter much, as I was just trying not to die.

But then I started to like this shit. And my GPS app on my iPhone was often WAY off base-- it once told me I ran a 27- minute mile, which basically meant I wasn't running at all, but rather sleepwalking in running shorts.

I also tried the web applications for runners such as mapmyrun and googlemaps. The difference in distance from the two was about a half mile, far too much variance for a sweet lil ol' beginner like me.

So I broke out the Garmin. For a hundred bones on Amazon, this little guy talks to the sky and tells me exactly how far I've gone. It can also do a billion other things, but that's all I bought it to do. I guess I should mention the computer program for runs, the heart rate monitor, and the lap function. But I haven't used any of those yet. I just turn that bitch on and look down after I've been running for about 30 minutes in hopes that I'm close to three miles so I can stop this torture.

Josie and Wifey like theirs too.

Come Fall I'd like to run longer distances-- though I don't see myself being interested in more than a 10k or so. After that it just seems like things would get too painful.

Course, that's what I said about running in the first place.

xoxo,

Tangent: Coming to America

2011-07-18T05:31:00.001-05:00

Remember the Arsenio Hall show? Back when he and Eddie Murphy were all "Coming to America" and shit? Remember how he used to do that "whoot, whoot, whoot" fist pump when things got exciting?

Well, "whoot, whoot, whoot," friends.

Just a leeetle problem- that hair.

I have finally reached my 3.1 miles. 3.45 to be exact. (Though I found Map My Run to be cumbersome and not user- friendly at all. Google Maps was more helpful but inflated my distance a bit. Ah! A Garmin! Problem solved. See next post...). And I did it faster than ever. And while that time still isn't very- uh, fast, I feel happy that I'm improving. Yes?

I stole this dress from my mother. It's a couple of sizes too big everywhere but perfect in the bust- a winner in my book, especially for a dress that was free. I threw a belt on with it and called it a day. The neckline is so lovely!And would you believe this is a Jessica Simpson dress? I am quite certain that my mom purchased it in tribute to the Southern star...just kidding.

Whelp, this is my last week teaching this course and I am...very relieved. VERY RELIEVED! Happy Monday, everyone!

xoxo,
13

The sh*t no one tells you...literally.

2011-07-14T05:54:00.001-05:00

So I am all crunk about running, something I said I'd never do. Why didn't I get the memo about how it feels to:

-run in the rain (God, how refreshing in the heat of summer, especially on a flat boardwalk at sunrise!);

-crosstrain (who gets excited about more exercise?);

-see my arms on a lectern camera and not be grossed out (never mind the pit stains- I sweat when I lecture...yeah.)

-get 2 miles into a run and suddenly understand what Tina meant by this:

Um, yeah.

After a million months, I am finally up the the 4 hours per week of exercise. It is a perfect storm, really: a bit more time in the summer; a new running goal; and a doctor's appointment coming up next week. I am still faaaar short of my weight goal, but this new drop has me feeling hopeful that my food choices + exercise will eventually get me to where I want to be. 4 hours per week doesn't sound like a ton, but it's enough to be more than accidental or even casual exercise, especially when the workout is so challenging that it requires a rest day in between.

The problem with this setpoint is the same as it was the first time around: I am feeling pretty good at this weight. I am looking pretty good at this weight. The shit no one tells you about losing weight is that it's...forever.

I will have to be vigilant forever.

xoxo,
13

Don't forget to enter the Ghana bracelet giveaway here!