Knee-jerk

I tend to notice when people are looking at me. Or, at least I think I do. When I feel like someone ia looking at me, I'll instinctively look back at them. I can't help it. Whether it's the first time or the fiftieth time they've looked toward me that day, I am compelled to look back. I can't make myself stop.

I know that some other people do the same, because sometimes I get stuck in this awkward infinite loop where I look at someone, then they look back, and then we both quickly look away, but then they look back again, and then I look back at them, and then we just seem to stare at each other again and again over the course of the day or night. Even though I know it's not just me, I feel very weird whenever it happens.

Cat people

A friend shared Cat People Are People, Too from the New York Times on Facebook, and I found this quote rather striking:

That’s because their pets’ lack of social need taps straight into our worst fears as the human inhabitants of New York. Cats, after all, don’t have other cat friends. You can’t take them to the cat run. Cats and their owners are on a private, exclusive loop of affection. Thus cats have become symbolic of a community eschewed and a hyper-engagement with oneself. They represent the profound danger of growing so independent in New York that it’s not merely that you don’t need anyone — it’s that you don’t know how to need anyone.

Remove the parts about New York (to which I've never been) and cats (which I do not have), and it's still a poignant few sentences.  Paraphrasing myself from a couple years ago when Jason and I broke up—well, temporarily—I realized that until then I had always seen myself living alone, independent, and being happy about it.  And before dating Jason I think I would have been perfectly happy doing so.  But since then I either learned something about myself, or something changed.  I wonder now if I didn't know how to need someone then.  Is that what changed?


(I consider myself a "cat person," but I don't have any because I am allergic to them and don't want to clean up after them.)

Make me want to slap you hard across the face

When I worked at the deli (Russ's Market on 66th and O, Lincoln, NE), some of the people I hated the most were the people who thought that they were clever and then got angry when they found out that they weren't. Every time we would have the 8-piece fried chicken on sale for eight bucks, a few people would come in thinking they were brilliant and ask for eight chicken breasts. I'd tell them that the special was for two of each type of piece and you couldn't substitute, and then they'd get angry as if they (and only they) had discovered this super-secret loophole and I would be obligated to give them the deal they thought they were getting. (Wings were 79¢ and breasts were $1.69, so obviously we wouldn't substitute breasts in place of wings.)

Hand-battering chicken was already the worst, and when it was on sale we'd need someone (that would be me) doing it pretty much non-stop. Asking for a ridiculous deal on top of the sale price is how you make me want to slap you hard across the face.

But at least working there helped train my anger management skills.

Voicemail

I have learned that setting "Do not leave me voicemail.  I will not respond to you in a timely fashion" as my voicemail greeting is surprisingly ineffective.

The healthy range

On the weight loss front I'm making slow progress.  I'm still sitting at about 205, which means that I'm right around where I was four months ago.  I did put on a few pounds and then lose them again, but the weight has stayed relatively constant.  On the other hand, I've definitely still lost some fat and gained some muscle.  It's hard to say exactly how much since I don't have a lot of hard measurements, but my clothes are continuing to shrink, and I'm continuing to increase my strength.  So, on some level, I'm trading fat for muscle.  I can feel a difference.  That's obviously still an improvement, but it's not a flashy one.

I've been dieting rather strictly for a couple months now, and it sucks as much as always.  Honestly, with the amount I'm exercising and how little I'm eating, I'm not sure what exactly is going on anymore, unless I'm building more muscle than I think I am.  I'm going to meet with my dietitian again soon and see what she thinks is up.

I got my latest numbers taken today along with my flu shot, and they put me at 19.3% body fat, which is finally in the "healthy" range, for the first time ever.  Below 10% is unhealthy; 10% would mean losing 23 more pounds.  If I gained muscle along the way and dropped my total body weight by 10 or 15 pounds, I think I'd be in pretty good shape.  I'll have to see what my dietitian and trainer have to say.