Episode 66: Putting Color Into Life

Today we went to the Farmer's Market behind the Weberstown Mall.  We got up, even before breakfast, put on clothes, braved the cold, crisp morning (at 8:45) and went out to see what sort of fresh produce they had for us today.  What you see in the picture is what we bought.  Fresh veggies, raspberry jams and some pomegranates.  They are all glorious (and barely fit in our tiny tiny apartment fridge).  The plan is to make some really awesome veggie soup, since we're on a type of Weight Watchers.

 In fact, I'm sort of cheating.  I have no money and very little resources to rejoin Weight Watchers at this time, but I have all of my old book and all of my old program stuff, so we're using these as resources, with some help from some web sources, to create our own version of Weight Watchers.  I haven't given up on the whole milk or the whole fat yogurt, as they seem to be better for my digestion than the low fat stuff (I don't get nearly as may ucky tummies), but we are adding many more veggies and things to our diet.  I feel healthier.  According to my Wii, I have lost about 5 pounds in the last two weeks.

Just looking at that picture makes me happy!  The colors, the vibrancy, and I've noticed that since we have been eating better, cleaning our apartment more often and working out a bit more, my whole life seems to be coated in this new vibrant color.  A year or more ago, I was feeling kind of in the doldrums.  I lived in a beautiful place, I had everything I ever wanted, but it wasn't satisfying. I was unhappy.  I was overweight. I was lazy and in pain and everything seemed like crap.  I was taking medication for bipolar disorder and it wasn't helping much.  And the food I was eating was awful!  Looking back at my Weight Watcher's books from a year ago, I was eating fast food daily.  One day was Wendys. One day was Subway. One day was Taco Bell.  Fried foods, foods full of fat, foods full of fillers. These were the things that I was putting into my body, and my body fought back with depression, acne and weight gain.

Now I eat what you see on the table.  Fresh fruits, fresh veggies. I make my own breads sometimes.

 I take a vitamin daily, and I cook my own food. I have even, on occasion, made my own butter (which is absolutely delicious!)  I know exactly what goes in my food. If I write down a recipe, or a list of ingredients, I can pronounce every single one of them.  I still eat meat, though we do have our Wegitarian Wednesdays, and Pizza Fridays (our one little concession to the "how do you pronounce that?" foods).  We will eat out, but we go places where we can eat healthfully.  We found this great little sushi place (at Sherwood Mall, no less) that makes great rolls and you can watch them make them, so we know exactly what goes into them.  All of these things have greatly improved the quality of my life.

I plan on keeping up with this blog some more.  I want to write and keep track.  I want to post about how I organize my life, how I make it can make it better, and how I have learned to enjoy a life lived in less space and fewer calories but much more enriched.  I'll post some of my recipes that we have found particularly yummy, some ideas for keeping life organized, and my adventures of jumping off the high dive of life and just, well... Weighting in the Deep End!

Keeping happy and healthy!

ToryLynn

Episode 56: Rebirth

Hi! 

I know, I haven't been around much lately. When you're living a life of this much bliss, you can't be bothered to do much blogging, I suppose.  Well, mostly bliss anyway.  Things are good... for the most part.

Except my weight.

I seem to have reached some sort of plateau.  I'm not really losing weight, but I'm not gaining too much weight either. I rubber band around mffmmm and mffmm, gaining or losing about 2 or 3 pounds every time I weigh in.

This needs to stop.

So, Easter is coming up.  I don't celebrate it, as I have a tiny little hitch in my whole stance of belief and religion.  That being said, Easter is an interesting time.  It is a time when the Christian world celebrates the rebirth of their god with stolen pagan rituals.  But it's that word, that term rebirth that gets me thinking. 

Once a year, most of the world (about a third, really.. 2.2 billion, according to Wikipedia) reflect on rebirth once a year.  Their God is reborn after three days.  I think I'll take a cue from them, and consider my own bit of rebirth.

I need to get back on track.  I need to be counting points, spending time exercising.  Recently, AM and I went to Japantown in San Francisco and did about 5 hours (conservative estimate) of walking.  We actually stayed for 6 and a half hours, but I'm giving us an hour an a half for the times we sat down to eat, write, talk, enjoy each other's company.  We had a really great time just hanging out and engulfing ourselves in the two malls that surround the Japanese Peace Plaza.  (If you're my friend on Facebook, I will post some pictures).  We hung out at MaiDo, we strolled around, we had lunch at Mifuna (I could be wrong on the name), and altogether it was wonderful!  And we walked so much!!

And when we got home... we felt it!  I don't exercise much, and my body screamed in the only way that it could that I need to do walking more often.  Maybe not 5 hours in one day, but a half an hour - maybe an hour a day - may not be the worst thing for my system.  So, part of my rebirth will be walking, even if it is just walking daily down to the market to pick up a little bit of groceries for dinner.

Since... well, let's say since January... I haven't been big on meal planning and counting points.  Those things get in the way when you have a Nubi (good frozen yogurt) just down the street from you.  Those things get in the way when you are suddenly rediscovering that the city that you live in has wonderful cuisines that you have never tried before (like the Greek cuisine I had never noticed in Stockton before.. and the Vietnamese.. and the tiny Italian places).  Those things get in the way when you start focusing on work and grading and really teaching lessons that make your students thing.  Counting points and calories hasn't been much on my priority list. 

But they need to be.  I don't want to live forever, but I don't want to die early either.  If I stay at my current weight and my current eating pattern (high sodium, fat and sugar content) I will develop some serious illnesses. I am already on the path to diabetes and I already have to take a slough of medications for high blood pressure.  My asthma has begun to kick up again and my back has thrown in its screaming pain along with all of the else that is going on.  If I want to be healthier and happier, I have to stick to a diet rich in foods that are healthy for me. (I hate the word diet.  It implies something temporary to me in a way that is like "With this 8 week diet, you'll lose 50 pounds!" which never really works out because these diet plans are ridiculous starvation acts that deprive your body of healthy nutrients and carbohydrates that your brain and other organs need to function! Diet for me means "the way I eat every day.") Counting points and making sure that I check off all of the items on that healthy eating list are important for me. AM and I have littered our apartment with whiteboards and reminder notebooks. It is time I used them.

The last part of my rebirth is my blog.  I need to start blogging again.  I meant it to be a record of my journey, perhaps a way for me to express myself that will give other people hope, ideas and the occasional recipe or healthy hint that they can take away from it.  I honestly don't really expect very many people to read it, but I enjoy writing it and sharing my life with my family and friends, who I have been spending a lot more time with lately.  I need to get back onto a nearly daily updating routine. Maybe a "just before bedtime" bit of writing, just to check in. Maybe a quick 15 minute "this is my motivation for today' writing in the mornings. All I know is that I need to get back to it.  This is (mostly) for me.

I have been lax, and inherent in that laziness has been the weight that I have gained and the lack of exercise and good eating.  I am a responsible adult.  I have the tools I need to succeed. Now I need to use them.

Hoping that you find your own rebirth this weekend,
Love and Lollipops,

ToryLynn

Episode 49: What's in a name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet, so Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes."
Juliet said it best.  A name is just a marker that is chosen for us at birth, something that our parents choose for us, something that we don't really think about, because we think it is out of our control. If I change my name, I will still be the same perfect person that I am. And so, as Juliet requests of Romeo, I may doff my name.

As we grow up, we identify with our names, we become attached to them, for the most part. As a woman gets married, in subservience to her husband, she changes her name to his, allowing him to dominate her nomenclature and taking away a part of her orginal identity, melding herself with him. He does not take her name, and stays the same person, not allowing himself to be subjugated, but instead becoming dominant.  It's been this way in our society for at least a thousand years, and women have put up with it. Hell, I've put up with it.  I changed my name when I got married. I thought it would bring me closer to my husband.  Things change.

I've been thinking a lot about my name, and posted a bit to Facebook about a possible name change, which prompted this post.

Now that I am divorcing, I have a chance to go back to my original name. Actually, it's even drawn up in my divorce papers that I will return to Victoria H----, but I'm not sure about this.  My name has become sort of a sticking point for me for as long as I can remember.

I was born Victoria H---- over 35 years ago.  My parents decided to call me Vicky, which changed to Vicki when I got to kindergarten and was asked which way I would like to spell my name.  (I think I simply asked which letter comes first in the alphabet and decided that was how I would spell my name.)  I was Vicki H--- from kindergarten until my sophomore year of high school.  As Vicki H----, I was mostly subservient, quiet, kind, polite, not much of a troublemaker... for the most part.  I had my fits of teenaged rebellion, but Vicki H---- was who I remained for a very very long time.

In my sophomore year of high school, I grew very rebellious and changed quite a bit.  This new identity that I created, this rebellious teenager who wouldn't take shit from anybody was called Tory.  When I moved in with my grandmother briefly during my sophomore year, when asked what I would like to be called (Victoria was too formal), I told the teacher's Tory, and for three months, Tory went to Menlo-Atherton high school.  Tory H----- was kind of a no nonsense kind of girl. I liked her.

I returned to Stockton and my name, changing it just a little bit to Vicky H----. The addition of the Y did little to change me and I returned to the girl I was. When I became interested in computers, my computer handle was Vixen, or sometimes Vixen Vipere, after a old device that my boyfriend and I had used in our writing. It was short for Vixantrayil, a name that I played with like a toy, a character I had created for a book that we had written together. 

When I got married, I took my husband's last name as was tradition and was Vicky L---.  We got married in 1998 and I stayed Vicky L--- for at least 7 years. Everybody still called me Vicky, at least family and friends, but I was in college and Vicky just seemed too..childish.  Vicky, in my mind, was a cheerleader, a sorority sister, a little girl with pigtails and just wasn't who I was anymore.  I attempted to get people to call me Victoria, which seemed much more professional and was the name that was put on all of my degrees. But my friends and family insisted on calling me Vicky... except one person. 

With one person, I confident and powerful and I didn't take shit. He made me feel strong.  For this person, I was Tory again.  He called me Tory for a good five years, and I loved him for the confidence that he seemed to give me.  A false confidence, I am sorry to say, for when he pushed me away, all of that confidence broke. 

With a little time and healing, I knew that I could not go back to being Vicky again and Victoria didn't quite fit right. It felt a bit big for me, so I took the name Tory back and made it my own. I grew confident, I added my middle name to it and became ToryLynn online (although everybody still called me Tory).  I grew into ToryLynn and became strong. I felt confident, I felt powerful, and I felt good finally being who I really wanted to be.  I joined writing groups, I became a big part of the writing community on Second Life for a while, and I felt like a better person. I had found my power. 

Unfortunately, as I gained my power as ToryLynn, Vicky was being left far behind with my husband.  I grew apart from him as I pursued my creativity and my power.  I feel bad about doing that, especially today.  Now, I am leaving him. It's not like I suddenly stopped loving. It is that I grew up and became a different person.

So, now this new person needs a new name.  In some societies, you are given a child name, something that your parents and family call you which is a personal name just for them.  When you grow up in this society, you are given a new name by an elder, or are asked to choose your own, something that represents you.  This new stage in my life is giving me a chance to choose my name and become a new person. The strong, confident, beautiful woman that I know I can be am.

I am reluctant to return to H----- as I don't want to be the child that I was before I got married, and I don't want to keep my husband's last name, since I have outgrown that as well.  I consider changing it to McGregor and becoming Victoria McGregor, which would look good on a book jacket, and Tory McGregor, which sounds awesome, and very ethnic to me.  Back to my Scottish ancestors, honoring my blood.  Another option is Victoria French, my grandmother's last name. Both are options which I find interesting, which I think are good. 

I will try on both for the next five months, and make my decision once my divorce is final.   I will give it a lot of thought.

Until next time, I am just

ToryLynn

Episode 48: Adulthood

He asked me today what was my proudest moment.  I answered without hesitation that it was the day that I got my BA.  I continued, volunteering that my second proudest moment was the day that I stood in front of my own classroom for the first time.  He still tells me every day, in one way or another, that he is proud of me, but most importantly, I am becoming proud of myself.

So, you know how, when you're a kid you often have to have an adult tell you to "eat your vegetables"?  I think I need an adult in my life now.  I haven't really eaten a lot of vegetables in recent years. In fact, I pretty much hate vegetables.  I realize that I'm an adult myself, I realize that I have a lot of really great things going for me right now, but I still hate eating vegetables.  It may be that I haven't yet found a vegetable that I like particularly well.  I'm willing to try some.  I'm willing to try a few, actually. For instance, today I bought some brussel sprouts.  Brussel sprouts have been my most maligned vegetable ever. The first time I tried to eat them, they had been boiled and they nearly made me gag.  I have had many people tell me that brussel sprouts are actually pretty good, so I am willing to give them another try. Now I need to find some recipes that may make brussel sprouts palatable.  I've heard a few.. fry them in butter and garlic, roast them with garlic, roast them with onions... If you have any suggestions, let me know. The bag I got from TraderJoe's says to microwave them within the bag and I'm kinda icked out by the idea.

I'm taking more pride in who I am.  When asked about my proudest moments, I have quite a few.  College graduation, becoming a teacher, and now, kind of.. getting out on my own and being my own person.  I'm not looking to anybody to support me and I can take care of myself.  I have worked hard for a lot of my victories.  I studied, I read, I planned on ways to help myself become successful.  My success is not only my own. Others have helped me along the way, and have supported me, and while I appreciate all of their help, I was the one who got the degree, I was the one who became a teacher.  I know this sounds selfish and prideful, and perhaps it is. I worked hard to get where I am today.  What I'm going through lately, with my divorce and my weight loss, is also going to take a lot of work and a lot of time to get through.  I know that I am not alone. I know that I have friends and family who will be there to back me up and support me, but I also know that I have hard work that only I can do.  I have to start planning out what I eat, making plans, sticking to them, in order to be successful in weight loss.  I have to start planning out a budget and sticking to it in order to be successful in my finances.

I've never been much of a planner. In the words of Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman", "I'm kind of a fly by the seat of my pants kind of girl".  EH (changed now, for Ex-Husband) was always the planner.  He made elaborate itineraries, booked hotels, figured out what we were doing for vacations, for work, for life.  It was his job, and so I let him do it in our lives as well.  Now, I'm on my own to do those sorts of things, and I'm finding it difficult.  I have to plan out meals, make grocery lists, take care of the cats (which, I feel, are sadly neglected) and learn to finally be an adult.

It is strange to finally take care of myself.  Much of my family has said to me in the past that EH was good for me because he "took good care of me".  Not to impugn EH, but.. if he took such good care of me, how is it that I nearly had a nervous breakdown a few years ago? How is it that I came to weigh over 300 pounds? Why is it that I'm struggling to pay down the massive credit card debt that we have gotten into over our 9 year marriage, and I have no assets to show for it?  Don't get me wrong. I am not angry at him. I am angry at myself for allowing myself to be treated like a child and not taking care of - or much interest in - things like my health and my finances before.  Much of what I am going through right now could have been avoided if I had taken better care of myself in the past.  Thirty-five is kind of late in the game to be finally growing up and becoming an adult, but here I am, throwing my hat in the ring of adulthood and hoping that I find myself in the process.

I guess part of that adulthood is that I learn to eat vegetables. Blech...

Got any good recipes?

With love and laughter...

ToryLynn