Crap on a Crap Cracker

The weight loss thing is going well. I’m down more than 14 pounds in 6 weeks, and my blood sugar is getting easier to regulate with the carb-choice counting work my Nutritionist is having me do. And my blood pressure was normal at my last doctor visit, so I don’t need to see her or her bloodthirsty phlebotomist again until mid-December. Good!

So now that my food issues are on the way to resolution & I’m not likely to have a stroke, I need to start exercising more. Dave and I took a 2-mile walk thru the barrio on Monday night. It was very nice.

Tuesday morning it was rainy, and so my ankle ached a little. But by the end of Tuesday, my entire foot just plain HURT – especially when I walked. It got worse on Wednesday, and Thursday morning was more of the same. Thankfully, the Podiatrist had a cancellation so I was able to see her on a late lunch break yesterday.


She asked me some questions, and touched the side of my foot once. I yelped, and she immediately sent me down the hall to get an x-ray. Fifteen minutes later, she was telling me I had a stress fracture and have to wear a boot for at least 4 weeks. This thing is huge! (At left: that would be my size-11 Puma next to the monstrosity.)

Worse, I am to take it slow and not walk or stand more than I need to. This includes housework (oh dear), and all cardio exercise other than swimming or recumbent bicycling. CRAP!! I feel like I can’t win… I got fat, then injured myself (presumably) while exercising because I am so *%!# fat, and now I can’t exercise to get less-fat.

I am so discouraged. Between this & my seasonal depression, it’s taking everything I’ve got not to say “screw it all" and call off work to spend a day with a bag of candy corn, a box of Little Debbies, a pizza, a plate of cheese fries, and an Edy's cheesecake topped with an entire can of cherry pie filling.

SELF: win!

Self magazine hit the ball out of the park this month with their feature, “Cook Once, Eat Healthy All Week.”

They gave me a quite-manageable shopping list, and in a little over 2 hours on Sunday, I made:

Adobo-Glazed Mini Turkey Loaves
Vegetable and Chickpea Ragout
Spicy Thai Soup With Lime Shrimp
Cheesy Shrimp Enchilada Bake
Sweet Potato Shepherd's Pie

I ended up with two generous portions of each recipe (by “generous,” I mean that I’ve been having trouble finishing the stuff I bring for lunch), and there are freezing / reheating directions for everything. Each dish is heavy vegetable / light meat / well-rounded flavor. I am extremely pleased.

If Self had a feature like this every month, I would subscribe forever.

You Could Have At Least Kissed Me First.

Last Thursday, I took a half-day off work to spend the afternoon with my Mom. Her birthday was over the weekend, and I took her to the Drake Hotel for tea and to see how they make the giant floral arrangement in the lobby. It was a great afternoon, and I'd recommend it to anyone.

Dave didn't have such a good afternoon, however. He woke up from a nap to find a boot on his car! Now, we had received a parking ticket last year and blew it off because our understanding was you don't get booted until you have 3 unpaid tickets and frankly, we wanted to hang onto our money for as long as we could. The City had another idea.

Dave called to find out that there were actually 2 tickets we did not pay in 2008, and he had another one in 1998 that he forgot about. Fine. We owed $358.68 for these three tickets, plus $60 to remove the boot. Not really the sort of news you want before the holidays, but OK.

But wait! There were also four tickets totalling $402.60 that were issued to Dave's old license plate during a 4-month period in 1997:
When. He. Did. Not. Have. A. Car.

He had transferred the plates to the buyer before any of these four tickets were issued. Unfortunately, we had no way to prove this... he no longer had the paperwork for the jalopy he sold, nor did the Currency Exchange where he & the buyer did the transfer. And frankly, we didn't have time to do much digging: we needed to pay all of it - $821.28 - by 9:30 Friday morning. Failing to do so would result in our car being towed & impounded (adding another few hundred dollars to the tab), and sold or destroyed in 21 days if we didn't pay up.

My inclination was to let them take the box o' bolts... it's 15 years old, and we can take the train. Let's just make the problem go away. However, apparently when you're dealing with Chicago, these things haunt you and failure to pay up would result in us being taken to Collections. I am far too conscientious about my credit score to let this happen. So we paid. And I'm so angry, I could spit.

Let us pause for a moment to review Wikipedia's definition of Extortion:

a criminal offense which occurs when a person unlawfully obtains either money, property or services from a person, entity, or institution, through coercion (the practice of forcing another party to behave in an involuntary manner (whether through action or inaction) by use of threats, intimidation, trickery, or some other form of pressure or force) ... Extortion is commonly practiced by organized crime groups. The actual obtainment of money or property is not required to commit the offense. Making a threat of violence or a lawsuit which refers to a requirement of a payment of money or property to halt future violence or lawsuit is sufficient to commit the offense.

We're looking for ways to get our money back. Dave is planning a trip to the Secretary of State's office to check out their records, and I'm still picking the brains of a couple lawyers that I know. In the meantime I've created a spreadsheet to keep track of how much money we're NOT spending in Chicago as a result of this. (On Saturday alone, we deprived the city of $17.32 in sales tax.) I'm also considering contacting a local news reporter who loves this topic. One has to admit that it is a bit interesting that we're suddenly being forced to cough up $400 from something that allegedly happened 12 years ago... especially when Mayor Daley is so obviously scrambling to fill holes in the 2010 budget. Maybe bogus tickets and extortion is what he had in mind last week when he said, "nothing is off the table"?

Chicago, our love affair has officially ended. Don't call me again.

Reality 101

I found myself in a conversation today about how great it would be to send wealthy people to cultural-sensitivity training. I think this is such a great idea, I would volunteer to teach!

Here’s my syllabus:

I. Home & Garden

a. The Apartment You Can Afford

- How to Wash Dishes By Hand
- Secrets of Coin-Operated Laundry Machines
- Strategies for Street Parking
- When to Call the Cops on Your Neighbors (and when not to)
- Mouse vs. Rat: Vermin Identification for Dummies

b. Whole Foods? Whole Paycheck!

- Will Non-Organic Food Kill You?
- Where to Find Grocery Coupons
- Ten Arguments for Aldi

II. Travel & Leisure

a. How to Survive with One Vehicle
b. A Primer on Public Transportation
c. Flying Coach 101
d. Staycation Appreciation

III. Parenting Secrets

a. How to Barter for Babysitters
b. How to Cope Without a Nanny
c. Ten Ways to Re-Introduce Yourself to Your Child on Weekends
d. Learning to Say “No”
e. Illiterate Little Communists: Myths About Public School

IV. Personal Style

a. How Often Do You Really Need a Haircut?
b. Home Manicure How-To’s
c. How to Spot a Good Knockoff
d. DIY Dry Cleaning
e. Double-Sided Tape: The Secret Your Tailor Doesn’t Want You to Know

Think Before You Pink

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Love it! Indeed, we cannot stop educating people and raising money for research & treatments.

I love when they turn the top of the Hancock Center pink. I love the flags on the buildings downtown. I love the fundraising events. I love that I can buy nearly any accessory, office supply, or household appliance in pink.

But that's where I start getting uncomfortable... at what point does altruism get left behind and profit-driven marketing take over?

There's an interesting web site on this very topic, www.thinkbeforeyoupink.org.

They have an outstanding list of five questions that they recommend you ask yourself before springing for a BC-awareness product.

1. How much money from your purchase actually goes toward breast cancer? Is the amount clearly stated on the package?

2. What is the maximum amount that will be donated?

3. How are the funds being raised?

4. To what breast cancer organization does the money go, and what types of programs does it support?

5. What is the company doing to assure that its products are not actually contributing to the breast cancer epidemic? (For example, you may be donating 10% of your "specially priced" cosmetic to a BC charity, but does the product contain rBGH or parabens - which may or may not cause cancer?)

Another way of looking at it might be: "Is Something for the cause better than Nothing, or are your allowing yourself to be exploited? (And if the latter, are you OK with that?)"

In 2003, I participated in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. It was a fabulous experience in every way (except for the heel spur & plantar fasciitis that I developed and still suffer from), and I raised over $2,000 in donations from my wonderfully generous family, friend, colleagues, and even strangers. I felt like I could change the world.

Afterwards, as I was writing to my donors to recap the weekend, I tried to find out how much of what I raised would be returned to the community. The local office couldn't give me a figure since they had to wait until all the year's Walks had been completed. I accepted that, wrote my happy little letter, and didn't reconsider the question until the next year when it was time to sign up.

Now, I certainly understand that an event like this has enormous overhead costs, but I hoped that Avon ("the company for women") covered them. Not so. An estimated 25-40% of what I raised went to overhead. Are you kidding me?!? Aside from giving me a free bottle of lotion that smelled like my Grandma's bathroom, what did Avon give back to the cause in exchange for all that advertising we did?

Perhaps I am being unreasonable here. The Avon Foundation has done a LOT of good - possibly more than any other charity named after a for-profit corporation. But something about the amount of overhead, the difficulty to get information on the overhead, and the commercial angle (not to mention the old-lady lotion) left me wanting to spend my time & money on another charity.

Be it therefore resolved:

Should I ever wish to do another BC walk, I will pick the Susan G. Komen Foundation's Breast Cancer 3-Day, and I will personally donate a full 15% of my fundraising requirement to the organization so I can assure my donors that ALL of their money will go to the cause.

Aside from that, should I ever wish to make a monetary difference in the fight against BC, I will make a donation to a charity directly.

And should I wish to score some really cute pink stuff, I'll run up the credit card in October.

Mmmm!

My sister-in-law sent me a delicious-sounding recipe today. Dave and I decided that we will try it.

Even though it looks like a cat turd on a stick.

Thanks, Stace!

Not Amused

It’s been 2 weeks since my stupid diagnosis, and I am a bit crabby about it today. I shouldn’t be: as of this morning, I am down 9.7 pounds and my work pants are sagging off my butt. I guess I’m happy about that part.

What I’m not happy about is the new pill for my blood sugar. It’s enormous, and I have to remember to take it with dinner. I suck at taking medicine more than once a day.

Nor am I happy about the new diuretic that was added to my handful of pills. This is to help my blood pressure get back to normal. It was much better yesterday than it was two weeks ago, but still not good enough.

Nor am I happy that I have to see a nutritionist in a couple weeks, who is going to tell me how to cut more salt & sugar & cholesterol from my diet. Because my cholesterol is fine for a “normal” person (what does that even mean?), but too high for a diabetic (oh).

What I’m most irritated about today, however, is that there seems to be something wrong with my liver. My doctor has called it “fatty” and “inflamed,” and has taken SIX (6!) vials of blood from me within the past 24 hours to see what’s going on there. I also get the pleasure of taking off work to get an ultrasound on it. Boo, boo, boo!!!

I know that taking care of all of these things now is ultimately going to be a good thing, but come on!! I suddenly take more pills than my boss, who is going to turn 68 this month.

I’ve been trying to make lemonade out of this moldy bushel, though. For example, I have discovered that the obstetric wipes they give you to use before donating a urine sample leave your nether-regions clean and minty fresh. (Sorry, Dad.) If I knew where to buy them, I’d pick up a box – but for now, I’m happy to help myself to a couple for the road each time I’m told to pee in a cup.

I have also decided that my next glucose meter will be pink. There is one that I saw on the Internets that is actually cute. Who knew? I’ve had less luck with a medic-alert bracelet, though. Since I’m starting glucose-lowering drugs, it’s my understanding that it could be a good idea, but who designs these things?! They are hideous, even the “luxury” and “designer” ones. I guess until Tiffany’s – or heck, even Target – starts making something pretty, I will take my chances. I don’t really like wearing bracelets all that much anyway.