nearly one-quarter done
I’m still light-headed with hunger, but cautiously optimistic. I weigh 79.9 kilos, which means I’m losing weight rapidly (for now).
Yesterday (which included making cake for a friend but a last-minute decision not to eat any of it) actually worked, to my enormous surprise. I’m also here http://www.brianagincourtmassey.com/winnerspage10.html due to winning third place with my realist novel (the only one that uses the name “Felicity Bloomfield”) and a bunch of friends and I went and danced in a supermarket last night (and filmed it for the http://twittertales.wordpress.com blog for tomorrow). That renewed my enthusiasm for life and awesomeness (which was very low due to lack of chocolate).
Today is day five of the current weight-loss saga. Sometime tomorrow I’ll be one-quarter done.
#10: Anticipation
I believe happiness comes from having most – but not all – of what you want. As humans, we’re built to need work, but we need our work to have a point, whether it’s re-tiling the bathroom or bringing forth the zombie apocalypse. We also need at least some of our goals to be definitely attainable rather than a slender hope. (As an unpublished author, I’m an expert when it comes to slender hopes.)
So here’s some awesome things I’m looking forward to, that I know are really going to happen:
Hot air balloon ride (next year).
Second honeymoon (next year).
Celebrating random holidays (I’ll be celebrating five thousand writing hours in about a month).
Growing a mint plant (I think I’ll steal a sprig from my neighbour when they’re out).
Making my version of mint julep – with my own mint leaves.
Re-eating yum cha (when I attempted to post the blog about yum cha awesomeness, the internet ate it. Thus, I shall have to do it again).
Secret # 5 (wouldn’t YOU like to know!)
Silly slippers.
Visiting my godparents.
Eating my husband’s much-acclaimed trifle for the first time (even though I’m almost certain I won’t like it).
Visiting my grandpa in October (technically, I’ll be visiting my ready-to-pop sister at the time, but they live in the same city).
Horseback riding for my birthday (next year). I’ve been wanting to go for a proper ride (as I’ve done in the past) for ten years!
Organising a zombie walk.
Going to the coast with my family (including my pregnant sister) in two months’ time.
Visiting a lighthouse while at the coast.
Secret # 6 (the supplier has now told me “stop calling us; we’ll call you” – but I’m still going to call them)
Being inside the healthy weight range (in a few weeks’ time).
Eating ravioli for lunch (in about 35 minutes).
I really don’t know what awesomenesses I’ll be doing this week. Right now I’m hungry and tired and grumpy, and I just counted five burn marks on my arms (note to self: stoves create heat). But after writing the above list, I feel a lot better. Today’s not so bad after all – and the future is shiny.
Play along at home: What are you looking forward to? If there isn’t anything twinkling pleasantly in the back of your mind, make something up – invite a friend over more than twenty-four hours in advance, or make a plan to eat chocolate in exactly one week’s time. Or reserve a great book at the public library. Tell people exactly what you want for your birthday this year, or make your own excellent plans in the spaces between everyone else’s. Read blogs you enjoy, and/or track down someone online who makes you laugh, and renew the friendship. Write a naughty and/or self-indulgent plan here in the comments, so you HAVE to do it or you’ll be a liar.
More than ten percent done, but less than one-seventh
Today is day three. It’s 5pm and I’m not letting myself have dinner for another hour and a half.
I’m cold, shaky on my feet, my stomach won’t stop rumbling, and I’m angry. Very angry.
After today is done, there’s still eighteen days of pain to go.
For the record, today I’ve eaten cereal (Nut Feast), a few salted nuts, some grapes, an avocado ham and cheese sandwich, and two corn thins with avocado. I intend to eat a mandarin, some baked sweet potato, and a ham and mushroom souffle before the day is done, plus maybe some more nuts or a glass of milk.
The first week of a diet is the hardest, but generally it’s also the most numerically rewarding.
It had better be.
S#70: Light a Fire
Fire. It creates heat and light, and makes food taste better (and kill you from food poisoning way less often). It’s romantic, it’s primeval, and it’s even more strangely compelling than daytime TV.
Last weekend CJ and I went to a party. The vast majority of my friends are geeks (especially fantasy and computer geeks), but this friend is a petrolhead. He owns a 72 Monaro, and he and his girlfriend are fascinated by all things mechanical. At the same party there was a beautifully-kept 64 Valiant (which will mean a very great deal to some readers – I confess, it WAS beautiful), a two-person bike steered with a stick, and another bike with off-centre wheels (which literally bounces as you ride it – my friend made it just for fun).
Naturally, with so much manly energy about, fire happened. I confess I rather enjoyed watching the men take on ironically deep voices and advise each other on the best wood, structure, etc. (I LIKE men.) Unlike so many similar scenes, this fire caught immediately and burned well.
Best of all, it was wonderfully warm.
Play along at home: Light a fire. You know you want to. All you really need is matches and paper. Or, if you’re truly slack, a candle. But I recommend burning more than that. (Side note: When I finished uni, I celebrated by burning all my text books and toasting marshmallows over the flames. I highly recommend you do the same.)
#150: Wear a Tiara
While looking for Winter clothes in the mighty I-can’t-even-remember-what-I-shoved-in-there-last-September drawer, I discovered my tiara. How could I not immediately choose to wear it? I wore it to a friend’s party, to civic, and to work (to which my student said sarcastically, “Pff. Nice TIARA.”)
Play along at home: Self-explanatory. Bonus points for boys.
Tomorrow: Sarcastic dream diary (hopefully)
Mojo
Yesterday I spent three writing hours literally lying down thinking.
I always feel bad when I do that, like I’m not actually working – but it almost always pays off. At about 10:30 last night, I realised that not only could I solve the major problem of my NaNoNovel, but I could send it off. Today.
And this morning, I woke up brim-ful of mojo.
Side note: I read a story about a man who needed to climb over a fence to get something he wanted. Unfortunately, there was a vicious dog on the other side. But the thing he wanted was important enough to take the risk, so he needed to overcome his fear. So he threw his hat over the fence. That way, he had to climb the fence to get his hat. Every time I mention online that I’m going to do something, I’m throwing my hat over the fence – now I HAVE to do it. It works wonders for me.
Remember how Publisher E said they’d actually not been able to open the “Waking Dead Mountain” document, way back last year? They’re not accepting manuscipts at the moment, but by way of apology they said I coudl resend it if I wanted. But I wanted to send that book to the Publisher A competition – which I did. But my NaNoNovel has been edited up to chapter 5 – and Publisher E only looks at the first three chapters to start off with. So I’ll “throw my hat over the fence” and send them that much. Then all I have to do is fix the rest before they reply.
Since I wrote the NaNoNovel more recently, it has more action in it (a lot of people have said I need more action in ym books), so it’s quite likely they’ll prefer it anyway. I’ll make sure I say so in the email.
In other news, my absolute favourite quote of the day is from Donald Miller’s blog: “In other words, if you were the person God designed you to be, you’d be in an insane asylum singing Third Day songs only wearing a keytar.”
Although it’s not at all the point he was making, I like to feel that as a crazy person, I’m closer to that picture than most.
#152: Get in Healthy Weight Range
One of my New Year’s Resolutions (remember those?) was to get in the healthy weight range and stay there for twelve months. I discovered a patently incorrect BMI calculator online that said I’m all good if I just weigh 78 kilos (I’m 175cm). So that’s the weight I’ll be going for.
Right now I weigh 80.9 kilos, so I need to lose just under three, which I’m fairly sure I can do in three weeks. One tiny problem: that means no chocolate and no candy for the first week, and very little for the other two weeks (and let’s not look past that). Each Friday, I’ll let you know how much I weigh, and how I feel.
Play along at home: Are you overweight or underweight? Do you think you can eat healthily for a week (or perhaps just one full day)? Tell me about it, because I WILL be feeling your pain.
As always on Fridays, here’s the twitter tale so far (it ends on the 26th):
AND THEN I WOKE UP
5
I woke with my face in concrete. Wet concrete. Not concrete – meat. Meat and blood, and it was in my MOUTH! Yuck!
I sat up, spitting. Then I saw the bodies all around me. No-one else was waking up, like I had. But a few others, like me, had blood dripping down their chins.
Wasn’t I just in maths class? I shook my head, trying not to scream. Hysteria took over, and I said aloud, “Please, not the maths!”
6
I sheltered overnight in an abandoned apartment. The homiest part was the curtains (burnt) but I found an unopened tin of baked beans.
Evidently even apocalypse survivors don’t eat baked beans. Also there was no can opener. I began to understand my own cannibalism.
My body was different, too – not just thinner. With a mirror, I discovered I was now in my twenties. What!?! Did I go to the prom or not?
7
I watched through burnt curtains as a group of people walked slowly down the street. They walked upright, and they weren’t as thin as me.
My belly rumbled, so I broke a two by four off the bed for a weapon, and went downstairs to follow the tall ones.
8
One of the tall ones kept sniffing the air and pushing his child in front of him. He looked around, and almost saw me.
Perhaps the tall ones knew why I was ten years older, why the whole city was burnt, and why I couldn’t remember anything since math class.
“Mustn’t sleep,” I told myself. I had to keep watch. They had food! And bottles of water! I was so thirsty it didn’t hurt any more.
9
“Gotcha!”
My eyes snapped open but it was too late. The man had me by both arms. I struggled, but I was so weak my vision blurred.
Their leader leant over me. “Stop moving. We’re not going to hurt you.”
I wanted to yell at her but instead I whimpered, “He took my beans.”
“Give her beans back, Z,” she said, and he did.
“I’m Dell,” she said, “and who are you?”
“Fay,” I whispered, and clung to my precious can.
10
All night they fed me sips of warm water, and in the morning they let me have half an old banana. Where did they get fruit from?
I tried to stay awake, but I slept. When I woke up, there were three times as many people – hungry-eyed, bloody-mouthed people like me.
“We need water,” Dell said to Z, “or they’ll die here.”
He nodded, and he and the child went back along the windy street alone.
11
Z and the girl returned with water and jerky. Dell made us say a prayer before we ate. For the first time, I wondered where my parents were.
When I was strong enough to stand, I asked Z for my weapon back.
“What for?” he said.
I said, “To protect me while I look for my parents.”
“Riiight,” he said, and showed me his gun.
I blinked.
“Wait until tomorrow,” he said, “and Dell will tell you what to do.”
12
Dell stood on a dumpster and addressed us all. “Go,” she said, “as far as you can in every direction. If you find water, let off a flare.”
“East!” I blurted out. “I’ll go East!”
Z smirked at me: “Fine then. So will I.” He stuck three flares in his belt, and we started walking.
“I’m called Iris,” said the girl, slipping her hand in mine.
“Fay,” I said, “and I wasn’t much older than you when I fell asleep.”
13
We searched every building for running water. “Someone’s got to have their own generator,” said Z.
“My parents do,” I said.
Iris screamed, and I instinctively threw her behind me. A stranger burst out of a hole in the wall and made a grab for my empty bottle.
Z drew his gun but the man kept fighting me. I remembered what my Mum taught me so long ago, and kneed him in the groin. He howled and fled.
14
I had a nightmare that I opened the door to my parents’ flat and found nothing but burnt curtains, a tin of baked beans, and two corpses.
We waited all day for the man to attack us again, or at least come back, but there was no sign of him. “Let it go,” said Z. We kept walking.
I found my courage. “Who did all this, Z?”
“People invented a way to make others into puppets. Be glad you’ve forgotten those years.”
15
Four men with guns stopped us entering an abandoned bank, and I noticed Z hid his. “Just move on and no-one will get hurt,” they said.
“You have water,” I realised aloud. Iris began to cry. Z crossed his arms. In the distance, someone else’s flare went off.
“You have guns, and water,” I said, “which means you can save hundreds. Let us send off a flare – please.” Their leader nodded.
16
We stayed overnight outside the bank, and drank our fill as more ragged people gathered. “So few,” I said to Z. He didn’t reply.
As we attempted to digest a breakfast of jerky, someone turned up wearing brilliant purple and a top hat. He grabbed rubbish and juggled it.
Iris laughed for the first time, and we asked Hugh to join us. His hands shook with hunger as he ate, but he told jokes (with a full mouth).
17
Hugh and Iris guarded yet another door as Z and I checked for supplies inside. We found mouldy bread, and a cat with three kittens.
“Wait!” I told Z. I found an empty box and used a scavenged knife to make holes in the lid. Then I called Iris inside for her present.
Iris’ eyes widened, and when the box meowed her mouth dropped open. “Can I keep it?” she said. Z shrugged. And “Fluffy” made five.
18
Fluffy liked jerky no more than I did, but she caught herself a mouse. “She’s the most useful provider here,” said Z. Iris giggled.
“This apocalypse isn’t so bad after all,” said Hugh. I said, “Speak for yourself – I missed half my adolescence.” “Even better,” he said.
“Who stopped it? Why am I awake now?” I asked. Z interrupted, “Same man that started it all. Seems he regretted it. He’s dead now.” “Good.”
19
Yay! Finally some more running water. We let off another flare and settled down to wait for people to arrive.
A pregnant woman came first. Z gave her his gun and taught her how to reload. She said, “If you had a proper name I’d give it to the kid.”
20
The lady had her own loyal posse before we left. We were running low on jerky, and I was secretly grateful. Starvation looked nicer.
21
We found a huge storeroom full of cans – and a can opener. Too bad it was electric. Hugh laughed so hard I eventually joined in.
“Here!” said Iris. She’d found self-opening cans. Too bad it was cat food. I’d gone from sixteen to a senior citizen in what felt like days.
We feasted on jellymeat and seafood cocktail loaf, and loaded ourselves with more. Fluffy refused to eat it. Weirdo cat.
15
Four men with guns stopped us entering an abandoned bank, and I noticed Z hid his. “Just move on and no-one will get hurt,” they said.
“You have water,” I realised aloud. Iris began to cry. Z crossed his arms. In the distance, someone else’s flare went off.
“You have guns, and water,” I said, “which means you can save hundreds. Let us send off a flare – please.”
Their leader nodded.
16
We stayed overnight outside the bank, and drank our fill as more ragged people gathered. “So few,” I said to Z. He didn’t reply.
As we attempted to digest a breakfast of jerky, someone turned up wearing brilliant purple and a top hat. He grabbed rubbish and juggled it.
Iris laughed for the first time, and we asked Hugh to join us. His hands shook with hunger as he ate, but he told jokes (with a full mouth).
17
Hugh and Iris guarded yet another door as Z and I checked for supplies inside. We found mouldy bread, and a cat with three kittens.
“Wait!” I told Z. I found an empty box and used a scavenged knife to make holes in the lid. Then I called Iris inside for her present.
Iris’ eyes widened, and when the box meowed her mouth dropped open. “Can I keep it?” she said.
Z shrugged. And “Fluffy” made five.
18
Fluffy liked jerky no more than I did, but she caught herself a mouse. “She’s the most useful provider here,” said Z. Iris giggled.
“This apocalypse isn’t so bad after all,” said Hugh.
I said, “Speak for yourself – I missed half my adolescence.”
“Even better,” he said.
“Who stopped it? Why am I awake now?” I asked.
Z interrupted, “Same man that started it all. Seems he regretted it. He’s dead now.”
“Good.”
19
Yay! Finally some more running water. We let off another flare and settled down to wait for people to arrive.
A pregnant woman came first. Z gave her his gun and taught her how to reload. She said, “If you had a proper name I’d give it to the kid.”
20
The lady had her own loyal posse before we left. We were running low on jerky, and I was secretly grateful. Starvation looked nicer.
21
We found a huge storeroom full of cans – and a can opener. Too bad it was electric. Hugh laughed so hard I eventually joined in.
“Here!” said Iris. She’d found self-opening cans. Too bad it was cat food. I’d gone from sixteen to a senior citizen in what felt like days.
We feasted on jellymeat and seafood cocktail loaf, and loaded ourselves with more. Fluffy refused to eat it. Weirdo cat.
Three weeks of pain
The good news is I just weighed myself and only weighed 80.9 (a gain, but a manageable one). That means I need to lose just 2.9 kilos to supposedly be inside the healthy weight range. I can almost certainly achieve that in three weeks.
The bad news is it means hunger, and pain, and no chocolate backing me up.
Beginning today is fairly good timing – it’s exactly the right part of my cycle, and my huge mass of extra work has just one hour to go. My workload now will actually be a little light – which is good. Only one disadvantage: birthdays. I have three parties in the next ten days, and CJ’s birthday soon after that. Out of the four, I reckon I can be “wagonning” (that is, absolutely no junk food) for two. The other two will challenge my moderation skills.
Reporting faithfully back here will help. So will being able to go swimming again (I still get nauseous sometimes, but I believe it’s food allergies – something to deal with by elimination dieting at another time).
To kickstart all this, I will be eating no unhealthy snacks whatsoever for seven days (with the exception of sugar free fizzy drinks at party # 1, which will help enormously). It won’t be pretty.
Next Friday’s weigh-in should definitely be within the 70s at last.
Good Morning
I’ve successfully entered the Publisher A editorama contest, and I know the book is good. Hopefully I’ll be editing it with Publisher A people this October (after visiting my sister for the birth of her first child – it could be an exciting month). This is a solid backup plan for if/when Publisher B rejects “Stormhunter” and “The Monster Apprentice”.
Today I received an email saying the first chapter of my realist novel placed third in the 2010 InnermoonLit Best First Chapter of a Novel Contest. I get a small amount of money, some online advertising, and a little bit of writerly street cred next time I send it off (I plan to send it to a Publisher B editorama in a few months, so the street cred won’t come into play for quite a while).
Yayness.
#151: Watch “Iron Man 2”
Mmm. . . geekalicious.
Don’t worry, this entry is spoiler-safe.
I really, really liked “Sherlock Holmes”. (I don’t name my fish after just anyone.) It’s the best movie I’ve seen this year by quite a bit. So I couldn’t help comparing Iron Man’s sequel to Robert Downey Jr’s other 2010 movie. And, not surprisingly, it wasn’t as good.
“Iron Man 2” was still very good – Robert Downey Jr has fantastic chemistry with Gwyneth Paltrow, Scarlett Johanssen, Sam Rockwell, Mickey Roarke, Don Cheadle, Samuel L. Jackson, and a robot. I thought Mickey Roarke as the main bad guy was genuinely interesting and compelling (usually I find bad guys deeply boring – including the “Sherlock Holmes” ones).
This movie’s biggest flaw was what I called “Pirates of the Carribean sequel syndrome” which is when there are too many big stars and each has to have their special screen moment. No. Stick to perhaps three main characters, including one main bad guy, and add one wild card character if you need them for a subplot (eg. Scarlett Johansson as a potential love interest). You can have the other characters, just spend much much less time on them. Repeat after me: Only three truly main characters. Three! Not seven.
I was most annoyed that things between Iron Man and Miss Potts had to take a back seat. That whole plot required memories from the first movie to sustain it. Also, the things that happened with Rhodes didn’t actually make sense motivationally. And a certain scene with Scarlett Johansson just made me giggle – and not in the way they were aiming for.
However.
“Iron Man 2” has enormous charisma, and countless priceless/intriguing moments. (Robert Downey Jr’s first scene is perfect.) It also understands what the purpose of it is – to be geekalicious – and it makes sure it has about a dozen supercool moments of sheer geeky joy (a normal good movie has 2-3 excellent moments). I think 90% of the S.H.I.E.L.D. subplot should have been canned – but I’m certain my husband would disagree. He is a serious comic book geek, while I just read a few of the really good ones. And I admit I enjoyed SHIELD, too.
It’s less than 24 hours since I saw the film, and I’m looking forward to seeing it again (though not paying for it a second time).
This movie is more than a guilty pleasure, and it’s more than just a geek movie. The action is excellent and interesting (I also generally find action scenes boring, but this franchise puts genuine character into them, which makes them worth having), and the characterisation is way above average (just without the time to do properly for so many).
I really enjoyed it.
As I researched (*cough* Wikipedia *cough*) this entry, I discovered that most of the great aspects of Mickey Roarke’s character were invented BY MICKEY ROARKE. I’m going to have to go and watch everything else he ever did.
Play along at home: See “Iron Man 2” (or for bonus points, see “Sherlock Holmes” instead).
My plan for tomorrow is to spend many hours in bed with the heater on re-reading “Deep Water” (book two of Pamela Freeman’s Castings trilogy – written for adults, not kids). This is very awesome for me but not super awesome to read about, so I’ll be borrowing a post from Emmy Lennevald, who is also diving into Steff Metal’s list of awesomeness and blogging about it. Enjoy!
Felicity Banks 