!viva la revolucion!

okay. i'm for real now. as you can see from CHER guevara right here i am not kidding. this is the woman who birthed my chazzy into the world and so i will use her image to birth my new found energy for the revolucion. today i had:

lunch with my mom.

therapy.

the gynecologist.

so, as you can imagine, i had much discussion about tankini dreams. the real, actual, for serious tankini dreams, the ones in my heart and soul, not the blog. after today i'm gonna try to live in a different head space.

i've been revisiting viva la resistance a lot lately. i have not been trying hard enough. i haven't really been trying at all. in fact, i've pretty much decided to self sabotage all day long. i have been feeling cheated out of eating. i have been feeling angry, to tell you the truth. i feel like stomping my feet into the pavement and crying on the curb. this sucks, to put it simply.

this weekend i went to kate's baby shower. i can't even begin to tell you the beautiful spread that we had. chicken, quiche, nachos, bread, cheese, hummos, salad, flourless chocolate cake, blondies and these gorgeous, designer, vercace-esque looking cupcakes that had full on gardens of butter and sugar icing on them. there's really nothing better than to eat great food with friends. but as good as it is, there are always these moments of torture. like sitting in a chair all the way across the room from the food spread not focusing on the conversation because i just want another bite of that cupcake from hell.


yesterday i was watching my neighbor's baby all day. i took him on a walk to visit julie at a cafe where she was sitting and writing. the only thing i'd eaten all day was handful after handful of dry cereal so i ordered a salad and a diet coke, which, by the way, is apparently horrible for you-- no duh, you're saying to yourself.

we said goodbye to julie after finishing up and walked out into the coldest day we've had in a long time. i was tired and cold, my back hurt from carrying the baby and i just didn't feel satisfied. so, i passed a new cafe on the way home and obvioulsy just had to go in to see what they had in the display case.

so, there it was, happiness and satisfaction in a square of rice crispies and marshmallows. so to keep with the cereal theme of the day i ordered it to-go and went back out into the freezing cold to walk home, with new warmth in my little heart, knowing that i had my rice crispie treat to eat when i got in the door.

well, surprise, surprise. i was satisfied and happy for the 3 minutes it took to eat it. then i just started to hate myself and still, 15 or so hours later, i'm still pretty annoyed with myself. and i'm still upset with myself for getting out of that chair at kate's to get that devil cupcake so i could focus on the conversation. it's the feelings of failure and guilt and self sabotage that stick around longer than the satisfaction of the food.

so in therapy we talked about the bread basket on the table when you go out to eat. those damn rolls. the butter. i mean, would you walk into a restaurant eating a bag of wonder bread? it's ridic. and the tortilla chips when you go out to eat mexican food... it's like eating a large bag of tostitos before the meal. can you imagine sitting down to dinner at someone's house while everybody is just sitting there with their little bag of chips? totally, utterly ridiculous. food that you don't need, just want is now called bread basket food.

if i would have just kept walking home and not stopped into the cafe i would've forgotten about the rice crispie treat a block later. these are such fleeting moments. i just have to take control over them and tell them to chill when i'm trying to reach my goal.

get your head outta the bread. that's the new mantra. no more filler. and if i hafta hafta hafta, well then there are healthy fillers. like berries. right? i just had some tonight and let me tell you-- delish.

ok, that's all i have on this for now. tune in later for talks about the CRUISE julie and i are going on...

whole grains and chazzy, and please get your head outta the bread,
rach