The only certainty is bad grammar – Page 84 – Too personal for the internet.

TV junk food

Published: December 22, 2009 / Updated: December 22, 2009 Crystal humor, medium, random thoughts

Wow. It’s been a hot minute since my last entry, huh?

Vacation days will do that to a girl.

So will reliance on a sporadic internet connection.

I let my sister and niece lure me into their “Christmas break mode” and we spent all day yesterday watching “True Life” and “World’s Strictest Parents” on MTV, while also flipping over to “Top 40 videos of 2009” on VH1.

Aside from learning that Michael Franti is WAY to old for me, I also realized that MTV documentaries are like crack. Have you ever watched these things? They’re so gritty. My favorite part is how they show people’s lives as is – mismatched furniture, dirty laundry, an old 92′ van filled with random kid crap and fast-food wrappers.

Love it.

And the World’s Strictest Parents totally transformed this one kid’s life in a week.

A WEEK!

That’s amazing. All they had to do was make him sleep on the floor and do ranch-related chores like feed the pigs. Oh! And on True Life, two 20-something girls were supporting their entire families. Yes, they had obvious co-dependency issues and they pushed guys away with pitchfork-like conversations about their problems, but I still felt bad for them.

I still want to find out how they’re doing now.

Now, I’m watching “The Hangover.” It’s pretty much the opposite of a gritty documentary, but it still fits nicely with the whole “Christmas break mode.” So excuse while I find out what happened to that one man’s tooth and why there’s a baby in the closet.

This post is (mostly) not about my ankle

Published: December 17, 2009 / Updated: December 17, 2009 Crystal exercise, im cool, medium

Oh happy happy joy joy!

I’m on vacation from work tomorrow.

And the next day. And the day after that. And two more days after THAT!

(You can be jealous now).

I’m not even going to write a depressing paragraph here about how I requested this time off all the way back in July so that I could go Christmas shopping, and now I can’t walk because my ankle is still jacked the jack up, so Christmas shopping would be supa lame.

Nope. Not me. Not going to write anything about that.

Oh. and ALSO, in other breaking news, I am getting a Christmas bonus from work!

Not like last year’s bonus of free hot chocolate from the vending machine. A REAL bonus. Made of money!

I’m thinking that between the time off work and the extra cash I should be able to squeek in a smile here and there. Heck, I might even throw caution to the wind for a few seconds and try to forget about that stupid problem I have, (it rhymes with “frained vankle”).

I just need to remember not to forget about it when I’m standing up.

My battered spirit

Published: December 15, 2009 / Updated: December 15, 2009 Crystal exercise, long, sh*tty things that happen to me

So, my ankle is still jacked.

“Blue, and purple, and swollen, and won’t know until tomorrow if it’s broken, and can’t walk on it for at least a week” jacked.

I’m kinda depressed about it.

Crutches suck. Throbbing pain that I secretly think everybody secretly thinks I’m faking, sucks. Climbing into the shower while gingerly resting my knee on the bathtub and then praying I can accurately grab the wash cloth rack at the exact right moment, sucks. Asking for help for every little thing (including, but not limited to: ice packs, trips to the printer and glasses of water), sucks.

Trying to work up the nerve to ask someone to put gas in my car because all I have is cash and the idea of crutching into a gas station to pre-pay in this weather, sucks. Driving with my left foot sucks. And feeling myself getting frustrated that more people aren’t offering to get me an ice pack, sucks.

But most of all.

Hearing the doctor say I won’t be able to workout for at least six weeks sucks.

Today, when my jazzercise instructor e-mailed to say that she hopes to see me back in class in February I started tearing up. At work. (Sorry co-worker who sits behind me) (Amber).

I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster with this whole weight loss thing. I’m at a number I haven’t seen since high school. A number I never thought I’d see again. A number that I’m almost (almost) comfortable telling the lady at the DMV about without first subtracting 5.

I finally found a rhythm. I finally started to understand my body and then control it. I finally started to win the epic war of “crystal vs. fat.”

Now I’m stuck behind enemy lines.

And there’s this very real voice telling my battered spirit – “You’re going to gain back all 41 pounds while your ankle heals.”

The doctor suggested I do sit ups. Umm, have you ever in your whole life ever met anyone who lost weight on sit ups alone? No. Because if that were a real thing, everyone would just do five in the morning before they brush their teeth.

Other say, “Just don’t eat very much and you’ll be fine.” Those people don’t know my secret – I already don’t eat very much. When all you have is a one meal a day and a snack, there’s not a lot of room for cuts. (Don’t judge me. You don’t lose 41 pounds eating).

I thought I’d be crutch free by now. I thought I’d be back on the jazzercise floor 10 days post injury. I thought I’d still be able to lose eight pounds in December.

I’m not. I won’t. I can’t.

And I’m pretty depressed about it.