Dietary experimentation

I have big news.  Big, big news.

I ate a roll.

You probably expected something more grandiose, like "I got a new job!" or "Andy contracted fatal acne".  But to me it's big.  I've been living gluten free, with a few accidental exceptions, for four months.  I wasn't sure if this was going to be a lifetime change, or if a few months off might heal me up enough to be able to handle it again. 

When I went hiking with DeLee a couple of weeks ago, I accidentally ate beef jerky which had been marinated in soy sauce.  I stopped as soon as I realized what I had done, then waited.  And no pain.  So this past Monday, I bought a wheat roll to eat with my lunch.

Man, that was a good roll.

I waited nervously all afternoon for the stab of massive pain.  And it never showed up.

So, that was nice.

I'm planning another experiment next week.  Perhaps soy sauce.  I'm not jumping back into the world of gluten too vigorously, because it hurt too much for that.  But it would be nice to be able to be less careful than I am right now.

Beer.  Right there, beer, is a thing it would be nice to be less careful with.  Some of the gluten free beers aren't awful, but none of them are fantastic.  And you know I like me the fancy beers.  It's porter time of year.  You really need a good porter when you make chili.  It brings out the deliciousness.  (I mean, you put the beer in the chili when it's cooking.  But drinking it is also nice.)

Am seriously hoping to be able to report in another week or so that I ate another gluten thing and I still felt fine. 

Oh, gluten.  I hardly knew ye.  And I'd like to get back in touch.

My comfy pants await

IT IS THE WEEKEND, BABY! And yes I was shouting.  It's been a long, hard week.  Even though it was only a four day week.  Mother in the hospital, wild temperature fluctuations while my horse is wearing his blanket and cursing me, incipient cold which can't make up its mind to go beyond a sore throat and overuse of Kleenex, physical therapy occasionally kicking my arse, major hardware failures, OS issues, and also I'm trying to lose weight.  Again.  (Because, as I told JD last night, twenty years of failure doesn't mean I'll fail this time.)

I was so happy when my workweek was over today.  Assuming it really is. I'm not technically on call, yet whenever trouble occurs you'll see me trudging into the office.  Okay, really you'll see me RACING into the office, because I am NOT going to be the one to blame when we start losing data from (multiple) spacecraft.  Or worse, when instruments fail on spacecraft because commands didn't get uploaded correctly.  No.  I am getting my ass to the office and fixing the problems, assuming I'm not drunk.

Maybe even if I am drunk.  On more than one occasion, JD has driven my tipsy self into the office so I could lay on hands.  It turns out that sobriety is not an absolute requirement for system administration.  I don't think too well when drunk, but I can flip switches with the best of them.  Same goes for major illness and incapacitation due to degenerative disk disease.  Just put me on a hand cart and roll me up to the machine.  I'm fine.

It's supposed to ice storm all weekend.  Okay, okay, it's supposed to "ice pellet" all weekend but I'm not sure how that's different from a storm.  No lightning?  I don't know.  But my theory is that it won't be safe to leave the house, and I'm going to be forced to wear my comfy pants and sit on the sofa all weekend.  And drink beer.  Maybe eat cookies.  Maybe watch some low quality tv.  I don't know.  But I'm pretty sure I'm not going to do anything productive.

Normally, of course, I would go out on Saturday and walk six miles.  I've been aiming to walk twelve (doing the loop twice) and if it weren't for our ice pellet storm tomorrow would definitely have been the day I did it.  Bummer.  What can I do?  My comfy pants await.

This is why I'm not allowed to bring good beer to the party

Oooh, I don't feel so good.  JD and I went across the street to the neighbor's house for a holiday party.  I had four (FOUR) beers, and probably too much in the way of sweets.  I feel kinda barfy.

Just talk amongst yourselves tonight.

sig-beer = task accomplished

Back = ow. 

Today was the first time since early September that I went out to the park for my regular weekend hike. I stopped, of course, because I caught Lyme disease again. And then after I healed, I waited for it to get cold out. I don't want to frequent Tick Central during tick season anymore. 

So it had been a while. Normally, hiking doesn't bother my back. I don't know what I did differently today. Maybe nothing. Maybe it's just one of those days. Whatever the reason, my back is Cranky. Oy. So tired of juvenile angsty back. Stupid spine. 

After the walking and the back spasm, I had a delightful interval of Chinese food plus getting warm. Have you noticed that it's cold out? You may not have if you don't spend time outside. If you only go between your vehicle and your car, you probably don't know what I'm talking about. But if you spend several hours at a time outside doing pretty much anything, you must have noticed. It took me two hours of hot food and hot drinks and a hot shower and a nap under three blankets to feel good and warm again. 

Post-nap, JD and I metroed into the city for beer. This is something I've been doing for coming up on twenty years now. It's still the same bar, but the name has changed. And sadly the food has changed. Who ever heard of a bar that doesn't sell bar food? The closest appetizer to onion rings was risotto balls. Risotto. Balls. Seriously. I do not wear trendy hipster pants and I am not eating risotto with my beer down in the basement. Dammit. 

Anyway, we went to the now-hipster bar and saw the same old friends and had the same old great time. Pretty sure my weekend is meeting its fantastic but low key goal, back issues being neither here nor there. 

Somebody please help me step away from the refrigerator

Oh good lord.  I'm pretty sure I just undid the effects of all the dieting of the week.  This is what happens when I'm home alone.

I remembered, just in time, that I was up an hour so I could leave early today.  I got home mid afternoon.  What to do?  I remembered that there was a Fat Tire in the fridge.  Mmmmm tasty beer.  I opened the fridge, and I noticed the bacon.  Mmmm tasty bacon.  So I had a beer and a slice of turkey bacon.

The problem is that after the beer my inhibitions were lowered.

After that, I had a little bag of Doritos.  And another beer (vanilla porter, this time).  Uh oh.

I think I ate a slice of pizza.  And a couple of slices of pickles.  And then, virtuously, some sliced up .. um.. what are those things called? That are crunchy?  Celery.  Yeah.  Celery.

Then I decided it would be good if I left the vicinity of the kitchen.

I went and watched a documentary about Herman Mudgett, AKA HH Holmes, America's first serial killer.  A cheerful film, appropriate to the season.

Then, unfortunately, I wandered toward the back of the house again.  I got some lemon lime seltzer water out of the fridge.  And some lemon sorbet.  And then a blueberry pancake.

I'm going to have to go to bed early or there isn't going to be any food left when JD gets home.

I was thinking that the weekend would be a brief reintroduction to bachelor life, but when I lived alone?  I never had this much food in the house.  It is hard to make a pig of yourself with a box of Cheerios, some spoiled milk, and a half full bottle of ketchup.  But when your everloving husband has left most of a pizza, two quarts of blueberry pancakes, several liquid quarts of beer, and I don't know what else but the fridge is full?  It is easy to make a pig of yourself.

Wish me luck on eating healthy tomorrow.  But save your breath on Sunday, because I'm going to the Renaissance Festival.  I'm going to wear a wench outfit (without the stupid squeezy bodice, but don't worry, I'll be covered).  I'm going to drink beer and leer at men in tights.  And there is a very good chance that I'm going to eat something on a stick.

In which our old house doesn't have modern conveniences

Gracious, but it's hot in here.

Our air conditioning is still kaput.  I talked to a scheduler at an AC place today, and somebody will be by tomorrow to take a look at it.  I expect that after that they'll have to order some parts, and then come back to install it, and it could be a while before the house is cool.  And that is assuming we can still get parts for a system that uses the older R22 coolant.  If not, we may have to upgrade our air handler as well.  Fun times!  At least it's supposed to cool down a little this weekend.

For now, though, I am marinating in my own sweat.  At this point it's a slightly beery marinade.

I've been experimenting a little with drinks.  (Not beer.  Beer has already been perfected.)  I would like to have flavored drinks, but I want them to be unsweetened.  So far I've tried a bag of mint tea added to cold water (excellent), ginger powder added to cold water (pretty good), and ginger powder combined with lemon powder added to cold water. (I couldn't taste the lemon.)  Both ginger and mint seem like good options.  Between those and my lemon, lime, and orange packets, I can have a nice selection of flavored waters.  And all the flavorings should travel well.  Plus I expect they will all make nice hot drinks, should I ever be cold again.  Which at the moment doesn't seem likely.

PS Mom?  I was oogy yesterday.  But I'm fine now.  I had to sleep a lot over the course of two days, but I'm fine.

Happiness comes down to two things. Chocolate and beer.

Over at Bye Bye Pie, June asked us today what our regrets would be as we lay dying.  A fairly gloomy topic, although we soon cheered up.

At first I didn't think I would regret much.  I do a pretty decent job of keeping myself happy, and I'm kind of living the dream with the job and the husband and the horse and the hiking.  Not everybody's dream of course, but it works for me.

But then I mulled more and realized that I spend so much time trying to diet and exercise my way into fitness, I would probably regret eating so little chocolate and drinking so little beer.

So, tonight I had a piece of chocolate and a beer.  No regrets!

Also, I spent approximately thirty hours this evening filling out an online mortgage application at my credit union.  I happened to look at mortgage rates and noticed they have gotten even more insanely low than their previously insanely low state.  So we are trading in our two year old, barely even used 20 year mortgage on a shiny new 10 year mortgage.  I think there's a reasonable chance we could have that 10 year mortgage paid off in 8 or 9 years, which would mean that we could own the house free and clear before I'm 50.  Which would kind of rock.  In a very staid, middle class way of rocking I guess.  It's not like Megadeth is out there writing songs about paying off the mortgage.  (Are they?  I'm just assuming here.)  (I just looked them up.  They're still around.  And the one guy who's been with them the whole time?  He's 49.  Maybe he's thinking about mortgages after all.  Or his prostate.  Not that I have any insight into prostate thoughts.)

Anyway if all goes well we'll funnel several thousand more dollars to the credit union next month, for the privilege of having a higher monthly payment.  But for a shorter amount of time!  And for less overall interest.  I'm kind of scared to do the math to see if my various refinance charges have overwhelmed the interest savings or not.  I'm just going to be happy with getting out of debt and leave it at that.

See?  I rock at the being happy thing.

Scenes from my evening

I was really feeling none too happy today.  I was fed up.  I was doing my least favorite thing ever at work (again) and I spent a little while dealing with an idiot who shows every sign of becoming a recurring problem in my future.

So, when it was time to go home I was ready for beer and chocolate.  And friends.  

And the porch.

Welcome to the porch!

Plenty of room, no wait for seating

All leafy and shady

A summer beer, some queso..

And so I had beer, and friends came over, and then it was late and now I'm going to bed.

Try the raspberries, they're excellent

I slept in until nearly 8:30 this morning.  It was AWESOME.  And then I got up and ate sticks and twigs, because I'm responsible that way.

Also I ate a second breakfast.  Hobbitses!  We like the second breakfast.

Water crackers and natural peanut butter and the best raspberries I have ever had in my life, I swear to dog.

JD offered to go out to the farm with me, so I transferred the minimum amount of necessary doctoring stuff (gloves, paper towel, ointment, halter, lead rope, muck boots, and cookies) to his car and we set off.

Mystery was already out getting his pedicure, so Pluto was right there at the gate wanting to come out too.  I brought him out and made him all shiny, and gooped up his head, and fed him cookies.  You know.  The usual.  (His head is looking somewhat less bloody, fyi.)  After Mystery was done, Pluto got his feetsies done too.  Sam the Rottweiler came over to say hi and eat hoof shavings, and I made much of him, as I always do.  He's such a big sweetie.  He was mildly concerned that we might want his hoof shavings, but A) gross, and B) I am not about to try to take food away from a full grown Rottweiler, sweet or not.

We went home the short way so I could get lunch before meeting DeLee.  And I have to tell you about it because it was so very good.  We had no bread, so I made a burrito.  And in the burrito I put leftover Peachy Chicken, some pepperoni, and some ricotta, which I had heated up in the microwave.  Then I added cold pickle slices and a pile of alfalfa sprouts.

You cannot buy sandwiches like that.  You have to make them yourself.  Oh my goodness.

Also, I had a handfull of fresh blueberries.  I *love* the abundance of fresh fruit in the summer.  Were it possible, I would be a fruitatarian.

I sped off to see DeLee.  Or at least I intended to speed off.  The traffic was abysmal.  I tried getting back off at the first exit and taking back roads, but realized that I had spent so much time traversing them that I might as well have stayed in the backup, so I got back into the parking lot / highway.  And crept up to DeLee's.

Anyway I finally got there, and then we went to look at shoes.  Shoes!  All pink and shiny!  As it happens.  Apparently women's trail shoes are pink.

Our salesman was excellent.  He right away understood our issues with feet swelling after many miles, and needed enough support, and not wanting toes to touch the end.  For me brought out shoes in two adjacent sizes in every style of trail runner they had.  For DeLee he brought out a similar selection of walkers, as she wants something in which to train for one of those three day walks for charity.

We both found good options, then checked out the rest of the massive store (much bigger on the inside than it looks - RoadRunner in Columbia).  And then Delee asked if I wanted to see the Perfect Pour.

I may, technically, have been in heaven.

We walked around for an absurdly long time in that store.  I didn't even check out the wine or hard liquor, just the beer.  And I limited myself to buying a very few single bottles.  One dares not lose one's head, you know.  We wouldn't have room in the fridge for anything else if I tried everything I wanted.

I didn't forget my tea-totalling husband.  I got him some diet ginger beer and also some diet boutique root beer.

I arrived home hungry (again) and suggested we call Shirley to see if she wanted to get pizza.  As it happened she was on the porch, about to order pizza, so we went over and it was a huge pizza fest.

And, finally, I put all my entries into trailjournals for the week I was hiking with DeLee.  Whew!  Long day.  I shall have to retire to my fainting couch for a rest.

PS Apparently I didn't get raptured.

All that and a bag of chips

My dinner tonight is two beers and a bag of chips.  Three beers if I get all crazy, and I can face the hangover tomorrow.  On a workday.  Possibly I should stick with two.  The problem is that beer interferes with your judgment.  By the end of two beers it might seem perfectly reasonable to  have three beers.  And so on.

In theory this is in honor of being part Irish but really I just like beer.  Especially this beer.  Also, my mom likes it so you know it's good.  Is there anything better than a mom endorsement?   

The chips are the result of poor judgment and beer.  I should have had vegetables and lean protein.  But I'm a rebel.  I crave fried potato products, dammit.  And fried other things.  Cabbage.  Sweet potatoes.  Snickers.  Hot dogs.  Mac and cheese (if you are at a Renaissance Festival.) (Actually I don't like mac and cheese that much, but they do fry it.) Also tempura fried veggies.

Ah, that was a nice trip down gustatory lane.  I'm not having any of those other things, but I enjoyed thinking about them.

I'm not having them because I'm on a diet.  I didn't think I was actually losing weight, but actually it was just happening so slowly that I didn't notice.  Turns out I'm losing about half a pound a week.  I suppose that's good and healthy-like.  It is frustratingly slow, though.  I like to exercise and I have a very hard time losing weight while doing so.  The other option is minimal exercise and quick weight loss.  That would quickly result in a skinny but insane me.

Pluto's progress has slowed way down.  He still has a lump.  It's less than golf ball sized, but larger than grape.  And I can't get in touch with the vet to ask about his bloodwork.  I am frustrated on the veterinary front.

But soon I will be in the woods where I hope to evade my frustrations.  Yay for weekends and backpacking!

A good day, all in all.

A good night's sleep made a new woman out of me.  At least until I hauled the kittens to the vet.  Those kitties are getting *heavy*.  And Olli punctured my with one needle-like claw.  They were pronounced healthy but fat by the vet.  No more kitten food, no more free feeding.  They've only been here two weeks!  How could they get fat so fast?

On top of mutilating me, none of the kittens are speaking to me now.  As I feared, they are royally pissed about being taken to the vet.  It'll take a while for them to like me again.  Sigh.  At least they still like JD.

I spent much of my afternoon figuring out how to create new users and assign new tokens in RSA Authentication Manager.  Thrilling, I know.  Had to be done, though.  When and if we actually get the tokens, I won't have time to figure it out.  We'll need to assign the tokens ASAP and get them in the mail to their users.  The old ones expire in two weeks.  (Yikes!)  As I learn more, I am shocked by the crappy interface, support, and platform requirements of the software.  This is what happens when you're basically unchallenged in the marketplace.  Capitalism works best when somebody else is willing to have a go at it too.

I had my heart warmed a little bit recently.  My friend Shannon of Four Pillars Farm recently adopted a horse who she initially thought was a Standardbred.  He looked suspiciously Lipizzanish, so she had his DNA tested.  And he is, in fact, a Lipizzan.  Siglavy Actress I.  He could not have ended up in a better place than with Shannon, a Lipizzan breeder.

It was more of a tummy warming that I had with dinner.  JD suggested we go to Duclaw where I could get the Euphoria nut brown ale, and we could both get dinner.  It was pretty datelike.  We even held hands until food started arriving.  :)  And then after that we spent a ton of money at Petco.  Turns out new kittens need lots of stuff.  And so does an old dog.  She has her own Snuggie which should make her happy on a cold evening on the sofa.

Beer and sherbet: I don't recommend it, but it works for me.

Could you hand me a beer, Internet?  Maybe a porter?  I feel like I deserve a frosty one.  In fact I handed myself a beer earlier.  I didn't really enjoy it, because immediately after I opened it JD suggested we go out to dinner.  And I was eager to do that so I chugged the beer and off we went.  Waste of a good beer, really.*  Pity.

The dinner out was fantastic, though.  A new buffet opened near us.  Near enough that if it hadn't been dark we would have walked.  Given the day I've had, I foresaw us being run down at the intersection, so we drove.  But it's close.  It has sushi (with fish!  which I can't say about the other buffet near us) and a Mongolian-ish grill, and I think nine buffet tables.  I pretty much stuffed myself.  Stress eating.  But yummy!  I had many sushis.  Also other things.**  But the sushi was the best part.  Also?  Rainbow sherbet.  A tiny little ball of it, all rolled up from the neat ice cream scooper thing.  I love tiny little balls of sherbet.

Stress eating actually relieved some of my stress, as did hollering.  It was a big restaurant so you could do some hollering without offending.  People just assumed I was raising my voice to be heard.  I bet.  Also JD is large enough to absorb some hollering without taking damage.

Trouble, our old bastardly cat, was not feeling well last night.  Twice (TWICE!)**** he fell off the sofa with thumping sounds, then howled very unhappily.  He howled with overtones of pain, confusion, and indignation.  I got up and checked on him both times.  I hate it when old bastards are pained and confused.  They are supposed to be mean and angry.  Pained and confused sounds make me feel sorry for them, and then I'm confused too.

Between lack of sleep, moving pains*****, and unwelcome new security restrictions, my day pretty much sucked until I got home.  Oh, and the migraine that my lack of sleep led to.  Sherbet may fix migraines.  I may have to keep some on hand for next time.

I raise my virtual beer to you, Internet.  And to tomorrow.  May it be a bright shiny new day****** with fewer problems and more smiles.*******

*Yuengling Black and Tan

**Such as fried plantain, fried spring rolls, and a fried wonton.  I also ate some non-fried food but who really cares about that?***

***I had some vegetables and fruit, Mom.

****The second time about an hour after the first time, at which point I had just barely fallen asleep again.  I would not call me well rested today.

*****Holy excrement I hate moving.

******It's supposed to rain.

*******The real kind, not the one I do right before I eviscerate somebody.  Also, may I drop the f-bomb less around my coworkers.