|Wait, how much saturated fat do you eat?!!|
I suppose a big part of it is the getting weighed part, which I hate. And the lectures. About my weight.
New docs are typically the worst. And as I just got new insurance (through Kaiser) and was going to a brand new doc's office for my preliminary visit: Ugh.
Pleasant surprise #1: I actually managed to FIND the office. The OB/GYN offices at Kaiser are on the second floor, but you have to follow certain colored tiles and take a specific elevator, or you're hosed. As I had never been there before, I had to rely on the kindness of MULTIPLE strangers to get me there. (The initial kind stranger sent me to the ER. Oops.)
Pleasant surprise #2: They have a high-tech, digital scale. No more weird, awkward conversations where I have to ask someone to move the lower weight on the standard issue scale up a mark or three. "I never would have guessed you weighed that much!" Um...thanks? Happily, not an issue. "Beep!" That was it. Win.
Pleasant surprise #3: My blood pressure has gone down. 108/80? Usually, I am around 120/70 or 120/80. I guess I have Wii Walk It Out to thank for that.
Pleasant surprise #4: I like my new doctor. She listened, was nice to talk to, and ordered the testing panels that I wanted. (A LOT of tests!) And let's face it- a Pap is never really something you consider a pleasant experience. This was no exception, but at least it wasn't horribly uncomfortable.
The only fly in the ointment: At the end, I thanked her for her approach, and her discretion in not giving me The Fat Lecture. "Oh- well, your exercise habits seem good. But yes, we will be discussing that down the road!" she said, cheerily. (Cue distant ominous thunderclap.) And she hasn't gotten a look at my cholesterol results yet. I am getting my speech about declining statins all prepared.
Then on the way out, I ended up joining forces with a group of 5 people who were also desperately searching for the exit. Which would have been funny, if it wasn't so freaking sad That place is like a rabbit warren.
Meat order was especially good this week too: a pastured chicken, pork sausage with apples in it, and some ground beef. Yum!
I tossed all that into the fridge, then made a stop at Ross (I had an hour to kill).
I am trying to update my summer wardrobe. I've been wearing the same clothes for the last few summers- something most other people would probably take for granted, but having clothes fit me reliably from one summer to the next is still something that blows my mind. I picked up some cute tops and some summer dresses.
I also had a hilarious experience when I tried on a crazy pair of shoes. These suckers were HIGH. I'd estimate 6 inch wedge heels- white open toed sandals with a basket-weave sole, and on the very back of the heels, about 20 multicolored leather flowers, each anchored with a metal stud. Please keep in mind that I am 37, and not a drag queen, and I have nowhere to wear them, but they were on CLEARANCE. And I just had to know. I live in an area where expensive yoga pants and flip-flops are de rigeur. But these things were pretty extreme by any standards.
So I am standing there in front of the shoe mirror, basically over 6 feet tall and wearing a tiny backyard on each foot, and a mom with two little boys following her like ducklings walks by. The oldest was about four. He stopped and took a long look at my feet, and then reluctantly moved on when his mom called to him. Little bro- probably 2, close to three- just stopped and stared, mouth open, completely flabbergasted, for a good minute. Words had completely escaped him. I said to him, "Fancy shoes, huh?" and he just nodded mutely. Mom kept calling him, and finally walked back over to where I was, and picked the little guy up, laughing. Never underestimate the power of shoes!
Next stop- Haircut. My hair was getting completely out of control. I probably hadn't gotten a trim in 6 months. I finally managed to make an appointment with my hair guru, and while we agreed to take three inches off, I would guess the total had to be closer to 5 or 6. I needed it though. Behold!
I think it's a pretty good Before and After- and yes. I brushed my hair that morning.
As I was putting the finishing touches on our plates, he bought in the burgers, fresh from the grill. And mentioned that one of our neighbors had complimented him on the smells that typically waft out our kitchen window at dinnertime. Our neighbor is divorced, and has custody of his eight-year-old son.
"I feel bad," said SG. "They were sitting out front, eating tuna-fish sandwiches. Can we...?" And he motioned to the plate of burgers with his free-hand. We'd grilled up two pounds of grassfed beef. There was plenty to share.
We made up a plate and SG took it over. I hope they liked it!
Chicken is on the menu for tonight. I don't know what I would do without my CrockPot.