Finishing Day Three So, I’ve finished day 3 of th…

Finishing Day Three

So, I’ve finished day 3 of the cleanse. It’s been sheer hell. Let me provide a recap:

Day 1: Not too bad. Craved everything under the sun, but didn’t cave. Even went to a bar that evening, and managed to avoid ordering a much desired cocktail. A MUCH desired cocktail.

Day 2: Was excited to have two meetings at work. Meetings are great ways to keep my mind off of food. Instead, walked into 8:00 meeting to be greeted with a buffet including muffins, bagels and breakfast sandwiches. BREAKFAST SANDWICHES??? WTF??? Can I just say that never, in the several months that I’ve had this job, have there been breakfast sandwiches (on croissants) at a meeting. Et tu? Went to lunch with two partners, only to watch them devour tasty turkey burgers and chicken sandwiches while yours truly ate rabbit food. At the end of the day, I was convinced that the Universe was conspiring against me.

Day 3: Had the protein cravings from hell. Had to remain on the opposite side of the street to avoid succumbing to the Egg McMuffins that were calling my name from Mickey D’s. Had an apple instead. whoo hoo! Had vegetable soup and a salad for lunch at a table where one coworker was savoring a tasty turkey sandwich, and another was sawing through the cheese on a calzone. Yet another coworker asked why I was doing a cleanse. At that point, I didn’t have a good answer. I remain perplexed.

I can’t wait to see what Day 4 will hold. And needless to say, I can’t wait until Day 7.

BTW, the curtain rods and curtains look fabulous. Completely worth the manual labor on Sunday.

In the process of procrastination So, I bought cu…

In the process of procrastination

So, I bought curtain rods yesterday ($130, thankyouverymuch). These rods were purchased to FINALLY install the valances that I bought . . . oh . . . SEVERAL months ago.

I’ve been on this quest for home improvement lately, and I’m procrastinating it. I don’t really know why.

I can tell you that, right now, I’m only blogging because I don’t feel like going downstairs and putting the drill to use to install these curtains. Although I know I’ll feel MUCH better once it’s done.

I should just stop being such a lazy girl, shouldn’t I?

I’m also on the first day of a cleanse. I do this cleanse quarterly — or at least I used to. I would guess that it’s been about a year since I’ve done it the last time. It’s basically fruits and vegetables only for the next 7 days. I don’t know what it is about being food restricted that makes me crave shit that I would never eat to begin with.

I don’t eat red meat, and haven’t since I was about 19 or 20. Therefore, I can’t comprehend why I had a craving for a Quarter Pounder this morning. Also, yesterday, in anticipation of the cleanse, it almost seemed like a good idea to have a Krispy Kreme doughnut. WHAT? (Okay, truthfully, I had 1/2 Dunkin Donut a few days prior when someone brought them in the office for a birthday celebration. Still. Not the point!).

So, I will proceed to drive myself absolutely insane for the next week as I maintain a steady diet of “twigs and berries,” as the BF calls it, but I will feel completely de-toxed by the end. And a little bit lighter.

Okay, to avoid becoming the goddess of procrastination, I guess I’ll go get the drill ready for my installation. Ugh!

Wanted — Sleep Bandits My sleep was severely imp…

Wanted — Sleep Bandits

My sleep was severely impaired last night. Largely because of the sleep bandits that I live with:

America’s Most Wanted

Name: Phoebe B.

DOB: 5/15/96

Height: 9″

Weight: 7lbs

Aliases: Feebs, Feeble, The Pooh Bear, Feeble Boo

Wanted for: Midnight marauding, cavorting with imaginary friends, breaking and entering bedroom closets, several attempts to suffocate the person who kindly feeds her by sleeping on her head.

Name: Bailey B.

DOB: 4/??/05

Height: 11″

Weight: 16 lbs.

Aliases: Bailey-Boy, Senor Bay, The Bay, Bailey-Bad-Ass

Wanted for: Disturbing the peace (by decided to play with belled toys at 3:00 am), begging, howling

These criminals must be caught before they strike again!!!

New column today! It’s all about reinventing pla…

New column today!

It’s all about reinventing places and experiences once you’ve broken up with someone. Check it out ! I’m ALL ABOUT the reinvention party.

It’s funny . . . I keep myself so busy with work, and freelance writing, and the column that I forget what it’s like to have a full night off — and by that I mean a night where I don’t have a deadline, or have to worry about a looming deadline, or worrying that what I turned in for a deadline was what the client was actually looking for.

I had a good feeling last night when I went home from work (even though I worked slightly late), and curled up on my couch to watch Grey’s Anatomy, undisturbed. Of course, then the feeling of angst set in when I realized that I owed a client a revision. But it was fun for a few hours.

Tiffany, a good friend, is always stressing that I should take a vacation. She’s so sweet . . . she’s even volunteered to feel Phoebe and Bailey while I’m gone. Perhaps it’s something to consider — once I figure out how to juggle work and freelance stuff so that I can take a solid week off. Hmmm . . . .

This explains a lot . . . Anger linked to women’…

This explains a lot . . .

Anger linked to women’s heart problems

Here’s an excerpt:

“Researchers found that women who tended to outwardly express their anger had a higher risk of artery blockages if they also had one of several other heart risk factors: older age, diabetes or high cholesterol. Other measures of hostility, like suppressed anger and hostile temperament in general, were unrelated to the risk of coronary artery disease.”

No wonder I have heart problems. I rarely discuss this, but several years ago I was diagnosed with three individual heart problems: a heart murmur (likely the result of a high fever that I had with a childhood illness), mitral valve prolapse (pretty common — although I have to take 9 antibiotics when I go to the dentist for any procedure. I’m skeptical as to whether the antibiotics are really necessary, but I’d rather take them than have a heart attack during a cleaning), and finally, the ever ominous vacillating aortic valve block. The latter is the most serious one, and the one that I’m most reminded of when I feel small random tremors. At this point there could be more issues, but I’m not excited about getting strapped up to another EKG machine to figure it out, only to give myself something else to worry about.

Funny story — during the course of my diagnosis, the MD sent me for a chest x-ray to make sure that there wasn’t a hole in my heart. (Which would ALSO explain a lot). I was sitting in the waiting room, and way across the room, there was a guy who was coughing so hard that I thought he’d spit up a lung. He began talking to me from 50 feet away, and asked me why I was there. I told him about the potential hole in my heart, and he casually mentioned, between hacks, that he was being tested for tuberculosis. Yeah . . . nothing like catching TB in the hospital. Needless to say, I kept my distance. Oh, and turns out I didn’t have a hole in my heart (I only behave as if I do. :-)).

The irony of the article about anger and heart trouble is that, after a severe betrayal by a “friend,” I made the decision that I would express my anger instead of keeping it bottled up inside. I used to stew in my own juices over something that pissed me off — just smile and take it — and finally decided that it wasn’t a good idea because I was creating toxins in my body. My herbalist told me (in Chin-English) that excessive toxins in the body can be poisonous and cancer-causing, so I decided to make a change.

Ever since, my policy has been to let it out . . . express everything, and give some ownership to the person that caused your anger. Honestly, it was the most liberating decision that I could have made. At first, it felt good just to let it out. And then I developed a reputation for letting it out, which meant that people were far less likely to do stupid stuff, because they knew they would hear about it. One of the things that’s so great about this blog is that it’s my own personal forum for bitching about things that I don’t always verbally express.

As an aside, although I love having an audience and receiving comments, the only problem with having an audience for this blog is that I still feel like I censor myself from time to time, based on who I think might be reading it. Sometimes I forget that people actually read this thing until one of my friends calls and requires clarification about something that I’ve written here. The good news is that my parents aren’t technologically savvy enough to read this blog — it would give them FAR more information about my life than they need. Obviously my co-workers know nothing about the blog. The BF rarely reads it, or at least he doesn’t tell me if he reads it. If I had to guess, I would assume he’s not a regular reader.

Anyhoo . . . back to the point . . . so, based on the posted article, it seems that it might be better to remain quiet about my anger. I don’t really see that happening anytime soon. I’ve grown accustomed to extreme expression — particularly when I’m behind the wheel of the car, driving my usual breakneck speed, and a PT Cruiser (i.e. mini-hearse) cuts in front of me only to putt along at a mere 25 mph. I’m getting road rage all over again just thinking about it.

Yep, I’m going to have to risk heart disease.

Trading Spouses My favorite quotes from this week…

Trading Spouses

My favorite quotes from this week’s Trading Spouses, fresh from TiVo:

Abasi (militant black man): I wish you could be black for a week. You probably would kill yourself.
Marguerite (the famed “God Warrior” from a previous episode): WHAT?
Abasi: Yeah
Marguerite: I would not, cause I will tell you something. I’d be hip-hoppin’ , having a good ole time, eating gizzards.

Now, the funniest thing about that exchange is that the man in this conversation is an extremely militant conspiracy theorist, and highly sensitive about race issues. The fact that Miss God Warrior made it seem that all black people do is sit around all day, happily listing to Snoop Dogg in front of a vat full of gizzards. And, by the way . . . gizzards? I don’t think a gizzard has ever grazed my tongue. But I digress.

The fact that he didn’t jump down her throat for that comment is nothing short of amazing.

Personally, I wouldn’t have been able to say anything. I would have been too busy doubling over in laughter with tears streaming down my face. WTF?

My, do I love reality TV!

Neighbors and the animals that they don’t take car…

Neighbors and the animals that they don’t take care of

I was inspired by Jen to write this post.

My next door neighbors have two behemoth dogs. Now, granted I love these dogs, and it is my belief that Roscoe and Foxy love me right back. Their owners . . . well that’s a different story.

A few months ago, I blogged about the steaming heap of shit that I stepped in while walking across MY lawn. I ended up confronting my neighbor, and they were a little more conscientious about picking up the shit — which was probably exacerbated by the fact that I took to standing in my window — in plain sight — and watched them as they walked the dogs to make sure that they were armed with little baggies.

As I’ve slacked off with my Mrs.-Kravitz-like behavior (simply having more to do with my time than to facilitate the proper handling of animal waste), they’ve slacked off, and I’ve noticed a few misplaced heaps.

But yesterday, while walking past their house, I noticed not one, not two, not even three, but no fewer than SEVEN heaps of dog shit in their front lawn, inside their gate. That tells me that these lazy bastards have just been letting the dogs out in the front, without a thought in the world of picking it up.

Now I can’t help but think that several piles of dung, if left alone for a while, would be a haven for vermin. I’ve been wondering who I can report this to, before rats begin frolicking in the yard.

Blogger has been betraying me lately My last pos…

Blogger has been betraying me lately

My last post disappeared. I’m posting through Google these days, which might be part of the issue. I have no idea. Anyhoo . . . today’s column day. It’s all about being Bitter, which some of us know more about than others. Check it out.

I really wish I had a portable blogging device that has voice recognition, so that I could just talk into it during the day, and the blog would magically post. This blog would have SO much more content.

First of all, I went to the RedEye “holiday” party last week. They like to have their party post-Christmas to avoid conflicts in schedule, deadline, etc. When I arrived, my editor graciously informed me that we would have to have pictures taken for submission into Wear Wolves. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Wear Wolves is the section where our fashion gurus critique pictures of random partiers on the scene. Well, of course, readers are dying to turn the tables and critique us. I don’t have a problem with being critiqued — because I’m all about being a fashionista when I’m prepared to do so, but can I at LEAST have fair warning — like maybe BEFORE I choose my outfit for the evening?????

Before I left my “real” job for the day, I slipped into my alter ego Gina B. attire, which consisted of a scoop neck long sleeve t-shirt, low-rise jeans and black boots. Had I known I was being photographed for Wear Wolves, I would have taken greater care in assembling my bag before leaving the house that morning.

In case you’re curious, the picture can be found here. Feel free to make any NICE comments that you can.

Fortunately there weren’t many comments at all, and the biggest complaint was the color of my jeans. They say that they’re too faded, but in reality, the flash made them appear lighter than they really are. Not making excuses — just sayin’.

Other than than, the party was a fun time. The BF and I got to hang out with some of my fave writers that I never see, including Kyra (Going Public), Jason (Boys on Boystown) and Jon (Sex Playbook). Jon and I toyed with the idea of doing a point/counterpoint, which I think would be hilarious fun.

Technology

I swear if I didn’t spend so much money on technology, I would probably be a millionaire by now — or at least a thousandaire.

I received my cell phone bill the other day, and it was completely astronomical. I didn’t understand that, given the fact that I talk on my personal cell phone less than ever these days, and most of my calls are to other Sprint subscribers.

Turns out, I was hit with $150 in internet charges because my Vision plan was mysteriously eliminated from my account. I called customer service, and asked them exactly how a plan that I was forced to sign up for when I switched to the Treo 700 could have disappeared suddenly. He didn’t really have a good answer, and ended up crediting me for the $150, plus an additional $34 that I accidentally paid the previous month.

The moral of the story: question your cell phone bill.

And then, as if I weren’t already over-exposed to television programming, I’m having DirecTV come an install the new HD Tivo for the new television that I won (did I mention that I won a 32″ plasma TV at my chiropractor’s office? If not, now you know). The technician is going to co-locate the originally Tivo to another room in the house, and the only other logical place is the kitchen. Now, don’t ask me why I would ever need a DVR in the kitchen, but since I already have one in my bedroom, my technology cup runneth over. Yep, I’m pretty much overdoing it. I admit it.

The onset of obesity Egg McMuffins are a very, VE…

The onset of obesity

Egg McMuffins are a very, VERY occasional guilty pleasure. They’re one of the most benign items on the McDonald’s menu — particularly after removing the canadian bacon to make the sandwich compliant with the standard Gina B. diet — no red meat (and yes, pork is red meat. I don’t care what those commercials say about it being the other white meat. If it walks on four legs, it’s red meat, dammit!). But I digress . . .

This morning, I ordered an Egg McMuffin for breakfast, and the cashier immediately began trying to talk me into the special, which is two for $4, or something. I declined quickly. Although, given my hunger, the prospect didn’t sound altogether unappetizing, I knew I had no business eating two egg mcmuffins. She was unrelenting, and, even in her broken English, tried to explain that it was more economical for me to get two. Why spend $2.50 on one when I could get two for just $1.50 more.

At that point, I understood how obesity begins.

New column today! Hello good people. Today’s ne…

New column today!

Hello good people. Today’s new column is all about Sounding Boards. In layman’s terms, be careful of who you talk to about arguments with your significant other. They might come back to haunt you. Check it out in the last edition of RedEye! Also . . . be my friend on MySpace!

I’m SO ready for the weekend!! Perhaps I’ll put away my makeshift Christmas tree before the first of February!