With the first of the really nice weather, all the rest of the bikers come flooding back onto the streets. A small, petty part of my soul resents them and wonders where the hell they were in February when I was battling -20 degree wind chills and black ice patches, but really I’m just glad there are more cyclists for drivers to notice.
The weather was nice enough today that I rode along the lakefront – it makes my commute about 10 miles instead of about 7, but it’s so worth it to spend some time with Lake Michigan before getting to the office.
So I had my physical today. It was even the lady-type of physical, with lots of uncomfy pokings and proddings, and still the most unpleasant part of it was the 3 seconds I spent on the scale. I know, I know, it’s just a number, I know, all scales are different… Still, it’s amazing how disheartening it can be. Losing 6 pounds and then seeing them all come back is somehow worse than not losing them in the first place. All sorts of dark and horrible thoughts come calling.
BUT, so you know, I had a nice pep talk from Kristin and another one from Dr. L, and I promise I’m feeling much better than today’s page would have you think. I suppose the disadvantage of this system is that by the time I finish drawing and uploading a day’s page, I’ve pretty much already worked through whatever the page was about. :)
ALSO. Apparently my doctor’s office is having their own little biggest loser-style weight loss contest. The staff there weigh in on Fridays (and they know about this website now, hello ladies!), so I think I’ll show a little solidarity and weigh myself on Fridays too.
My calves are pretty substantial. And pretty much pure muscle, although they’re the only thing on my body that is. I actually don’t hate them, as they’re a reasonable shape and pretty strong. But I can’t stand when I buy a pair of kneesocks or boots only to find that they don’t zip all the way or they cut off circulation. Sometimes I’ll buy thigh high socks because I figure at the very least, they’ll fit comfortably around my massive calves.
So yes, I skipped dinner Tuesday. Not out of any amount of willpower or anything, mostly because I had an appointment to get my hair cut and colored, and it was right after work, and I didn’t get home til almost 9:00, so it kind of slipped my mind. Until I woke up the next morning with a growly stomach and a pounding headache.
Clearly I made up for it, with crepes for lunch and holy crap the tenderest veal breast for dinner. Have you guys been to Longman & Eagle yet? Those Kobe meatballs, with the polenta and pesto, they were so good I was threatening to lick the bowl. And the chocolate cake… there are no words, except that I am immensely grateful that there are people in this world who think to mix cayenne pepper in with whipped cream.
So. Feh. I maybe ate too much today? Maybe? The portions at Longman & Eagle aren’t huge, and I don’t feel overstuffed right now. All I know is it’s the end of the day and I feel ten times better today than I did at the end of the day yesterday.
I was fairly proud of this one. There’s this mango wasabi sauce that I found with the mustards in the store one day, it’s sweet and spicy and tangy and goes so well with shrimp. Aaaand I used the last of it on this salad, so I guess I have to go hunt it down again now.
So, apparently I don’t deal with these small tragedies well. I left work a little early yesterday, determined to enjoy the gusty tailwind that was going to blow my bike home, maybe go to Best Buy and get a new router, and make myself a tasty, healthy salady thing for dinner. About halfway home I noticed that my rear brakes were feeling kind of ragged, and when I investigated more closely I realized the whole damn wheel was out of true. This was enough to ruin both the “enjoy the tailwind” plan and the “get a new router” plan. I half walked, half rode the rest of the way home, knowing that I was most likely only making it worse. When I got home and got the wheel off the bike I realized the thing was just completely bent, and I didn’t have the tools to fix it. My mood plummeted, and my response, of course, was to angrily consume a box of microwave wontons. Good plan!
So the St. Patrick’s show was great. Many people said very nice things about my singing, which was super awesome. We played well, only screwed up a few times, and thankfully we were the only ones who noticed. A drunken me left my cell phone in the cab, though, and the furious amounts of self-deprecation and loathing completely ovewhelmed any nice feelings I had about the show. I yelled at myself and kicked the sheets and called myself an idiot over and over again.
I mean, long story short I got the phone back, because Chicago’s cab drivers are AWESOME. I still felt like an idiot though. At least I was smart enough to only do ONE shot of whiskey. The rest of the band did, like, three.