October 2005 Archives

Last night marked the end of Phase 1, and Amy and I marked the occassion with a glass of wine — our first alcohol in two weeks. Either we've lost whatever palate we had, or the wine was awful. Either way, we ended up only drinking half a cup each.

The final tally for me: about 10 pounds (OK, 9.6) lost in 2 weeks.

Next is Phase 2 with its gradual reintroduction of yummy, yummy carbs. I enjoyed a slice of whole wheat toast this morning. I feel like a wild man!

Phase 2 isn't as exciting, and promises only about 1 pound per week, so I figure, if that's true, I'll stay on it for another month and shoot for a steady 165.

One minor correction: when I said in the last post that we had more energy, I should have said that we feel less tired. Our energy levels have been slightly lower; Amy reports feeling "depleted," and I guess I do, too. I hope that on Phase 2, I'll get back some energy and feel like working out a bit to get rid of the flab.

It's day 12 of 14 for Phase 1 -- the no carb, no sugar phase.

I have lost somewhere between 8-10 pounds according to various scale readings at different times of the day. I am finally securely below 170, which was my goal. Phase 2 of the diet, which starts Monday, involves a gradual reintroduction of complex carbs and reportedly can still result in a weekly loss of another pound or two. Phase 3 (which begins whenever I want it to) is more about maintaining weight and overall healthy eating habits.

Click below to read my observations of life on the South Beach Diet so far.

To accompany my previous post about Canadian zombies, it seems my former home town of Madison, WI, has a zombie problem, too.

http://www.thedailypage.com/daily/node/407

A little harsher than I would put it, but....

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/cenk-uygur/if-youre-a-christian-mu_b_9349.html

So, I guess this is getting to be more of a periodic report. With my piano class and Bauhaus concert this week, I didn't have much time to post.

So far, I've lost between 3 and 6 pounds depending on what time of day I weigh myself. I am getting just a little bit obsessed with that, feeling that if I am sacrificing so much I need something dramatic in return. I received a great deal of validation last night when I got home. Amy greeted me at the door and remarked that my face looked skinny. I've always gained and lost weight in my face, so that was good to hear. It's not that I'm turning anorexic or anything; I'm just really curious to see if this diet does what it claims to do. I've never tried to stick to anything like this before, so I view it more of an experiment that a chore. And, so far, it seems to live up to its claims.

Bauhaus played the Paramount in Seattle last night. As I explained in my previous post about the show, my post-adolescent identity was largely formed under the influence of Bauhaus and their derivatives. As a fan, I am very happy to have finally seen them, especially since I never thought I'd have the chance. Objectively speaking, the show was a bit of a let down. I can't say there was anything wrong with it (apart from some early sound issues), but I can't say I was blown away either.

We're all going to die from a lahar. More about that later in the post. First, a somewhat related anecdote.

Sometime during the summer after we moved into the house, we realized we could see Mount Rainier from the window of the back bedroom. The mountain is not "out" every day and the window with a view is one we normally keep shaded, so it took us a while to notice.

One night, Amy, Ray, and I were watching the mountain be illuminated by the pink glow of sundown. As we stood and contemplated the grandeur of the snowy peak, I made some comment about feeling lucky that we were far enough away Mt. St. Helens that we didn't need volcano insurance. Amy turned to me to see if I was joking. After she ascertained that I wasn't, she said, "What do think that is?" as she indicated the dormant giant to our southeast. She added: "And every other conical mountain in the Cascades?!"

It had never occurred to me that every mountain around here was volcanic. I looked at her, then at the mountain, and then back to her and Ray and ominously said: "We're doomed." A thoughtful-looking preverbal Ray met my eyes and very seriously waved "bye-bye."

So, my plan to post every day about my experience on the SBD isn't exactly working out. I was so exhausted by the end of Day 1 (not due wholly to the diet) that I went to bed at 9:00. And last night I just didn't feel like it. So here's a post to make up for my laziness.

Tomorrow, Amy and I start the South Beach Diet. The SBD is based on the theory that foods with a low glycemic index satisfy your hunger longer and minimize food cravings better than foods with a high GI (such as highly-processed foods, white flour, sugars, etc.). In the interests of maintaining an incentive for sticking to the Diet (especially the ominous 2-week "Phase 1" of the project, which permits no carbs at all, only low-fat dairy, and very, very small portions), I have decided to post a daily update chronicling our journey back to our ideal weights. First entry: Day Zero — the preparation.

Amy and I have always treasured sleep. Neither of us was really a night owl before we met, and we really bonded over staying in bed as long as possible in the morning.

Now, as you already know, Ray was not a great — or even good — sleeper for his first 18 months, which was really hard on us. We took to turning in even earlier, usually around 9:00, so we could be prepared for the onslaught of night wakings. This all affected Amy more than me since she has boobs and I do not.

This week, however, Amy and Ray have been in Colorado visiting relatives and not by design I have been staying up until midnight or even later and arising at the usual time (around 6:00 am). Generally I feel better than usual, which is leading me to wonder if I've been getting ... I can barely write this sentence ... too much sleep?

I know from first-hand experience, however, the dangers of messing around with sleep patterns....

Writing about the Seattle Underground Tour got me thinking about an expereince I had with a friend at the Detroit Institute of Arts back in college.

When my mom was in town, we went on the touristy Seattle Underground tour, which I found pretty interesting.

The Pioneer Square area of Seattle is the oldest part of the city. It was originally built on tide flats, which caused sewage and flooding problems. After the town burned down in 1889, the city planners decided to rebuild on elevated ground and avoid the problems they had the first time around. They raised the streets via huge stone retaining walls filled with soil, but the business owners didn't want to wait, so they rebuilt their buildings at the old ground level. This resulted in street levels that were 15-30 feet higher than the sidewalks/ground floors of the stores. Citizens had to use ladders to cross the streets or descend to the sidewalks. Eventually, the city got around to extending the streets over to the buildings. The shops' second floors became first floors and the previous ground floors were sunk underground. The Underground Tour explores 4-5 blocks of the remaining underground area and goes over a lot of early Seattle history.

There were a couple things that bugged me about the tour, however.

Whenever I get an idea in my head for an Item that Would Transform My Life, I can never find the item in question. It's quite annoying.

For years now, for example, I have searched for the perfect "man-purse." My criteria have changed slightly over the course of time, which sort of means the Item is a moving target, but I have never been satisfied with any bag I've used.

In the past, I have had similar bouts regarding trousers, shirts, hats, sunglasses ... just about anything.

Now, my struggle is to find a pocket-sized, retractable mechanical pencil — one that won't poke a hole in my pocket or my leg. You'd think it would be simple....

I had my first piano class last night. I'm taking it with 15 other people at an area community college. After 20 years of threatening to learn how to play, and after buying a freakin' piano, I'm actually doing it!

Overheard in class last night:

Frustrated woman who's just not getting the practice tune down: "I know what all the notes are, I'm just having trouble getting them in the right order."

Instructor (to man): You're trying to play too fast.

Man: It's just that I know how this tune goes after that. Dah-DAH-dah-dah-daaaaaah. I think I'm trying to get to that point.

Instructor: Uh, I think you're thinking of a different tune.

Man: Oh. But I like that tune. Dah-DAH-dah-dah-daaaaaah.

After an explanation that black keys can be referred to by different names (e.g. A-sharp and B-flat)...

Woman: But how will we know which one to play?

(Think about it....)

My uncle R. -- my sole connection to the world of the right wing -- passed along an oft-circulated Sept. 2 article by Robert Tracinski who edits something called The Intellectual Activist.

It was forwarded to me with the subject "The Real Story" (always a warning sign) and an introduction of "check this and SEE WHAT YOUR PEOPLE (starting especially with LBJ) HAVE WROUGHT."

Tracinski's thesis is that the "real problem" with Katrina and its aftermath was not the paltry governmental disaster response or the crumbling and underfunded infrastructure in New Orleans, but the "welfare state." He argues that the violence, widespread homicides, rapes, and looting that resulted from the disaster were all caused by the remaining inhabitants, most of whom were poor and living in housing projects. Public housing and the welfare system, he concludes, foster antisocial behavior and gave rise to the animalistic actions that followed the hurricane.

One of the (many) problems with this thesis: the violent aftermath he cites as justification for dismantling the welfare state (or, at least, shifting the blame for the aftermath to liberals) didn't actually happen.

Amy's mom recently sent her an article from the San Jose Mercury that discussed the debate over the effects of television-watching on children. Amy's also been particpating in a research study here at the UW in which she sends in weekly forms detailing Ray's consumption of television and videos (each week = zero). The same UW researchers have previously published their findings [PDF] in Pediatrics, which the Seattle Times reported on back in July.

Needless to say, Amy and I have been doing a lot of thinking about Ray's eventual and inevitable exposure to media and how to handle it.

I've been thinking a lot lately about regrets related to my education, and with my mom in town for a few days, I was able to talk to her about some of what I feel went wrong with my life during and after high school.