Off. The. Rails.

Yep.

Totally off the rails for like the last 3ish weeks. Well not totally totally. Didn't feast on gluten bombs or anything extra stupid like that. But I did eat an entire box of mini York Peppermint Patties. Yes, you read that right. Box. A whole Costco sized box. I do believe the box read 175 delicious patty yum yums inside (though I could be paraphrasing. That really should be on the box though. You want to hire me now don't you York makers? Mmm hmm, I know. Sorry, I just can't, but I appreciate the love.)

Mind you, I didn't eat them all at once, I don't actually have a death wish. It's seriously taken 3 weeks to do it. Please do not try that at home. No one should ever do that. Your insides will hate you. Your tongue however will think you're awesome. Keep in mind though, the tongue is only a small part of the body. And the rest of you will think...well it just won't be too happy with you ok? No, I don't know why I did it. I know better.

That's not all I've done to myself.

You see, I moved. That's all fine and dandy, the move went as smooth as moves can go, but the eating that resulted from every day for the last 3 weeks having to do with moving? Um, not pretty. Had some Qdoba (still delish, but not as delish as I remembered a mere 5 months ago...) By some, I mean 3 days in a row. Only Qdoba obtained foods entered my tummy. Not cool. Would I like a Dr. Pepper with my 3 cheese chicken nachos too? ?Como se dice "Hell yeah I would!"? Because lets be honest here, water does not wash down the yum that is Qdoba queso like Dr. Pepper does. It just doesn't, that's actual and it's factual.

Oh, and you know, you sleep like crap when you're brain won't shut off at night thinking about all the things you need to take care of. So then at work, you make bad choices. Like you drink soda. Even if it doesn't have caffeine because you want any sort of energy you can get your hands on. I'm not going to lie here and try to play off like I gave up soda forever when I went Paleo. No. I still have it now and then. Except when I had at least a months worth of it in one week. Yeah, except for that disaster it's a now and then thing.

When you're moving, you don't have time to cook. At least not when the you here is me. Nope, sure don't. So you order a salad (delivered). Not a bad choice I know, of all the choices I could have made. But the lettuce? Not organic. Chicken? Hahahahahaha! You are funny. No, that's for sure not meat from a happy chicken who led a fulfilled little chicken life. Dressing chock full of inflammatory Omega 6 Canola oil? You betcha! As those beautiful Hartwig's say: less healthy. Less healthy than what I make for myself on a regular day. By far.

Supplements! Yeah, didn't take those for the last two weeks either. Sigh.

The last 3 weeks turned into an n=1 experiment. What will happen to The Hussy after eating pretty well and making really great progress over the last five to 6 months if she goes on a sugar laden stress eating canola oil chugging (ok, exageration there) 3 week crap food and stress binge?

Well, let me tell you. Psoriasis. Big surprise with that one I know, seeing as how I was still flaring on a pretty clean diet as it was. Crap sleep. It wasn't ALL due to my overactive brain. No, you eat like crap, you sleep like crap, that's how these things go. Anemia? Yeah. I don't have any blood tests to show it, but my nail beds were a lovely bluish white tinge and my fatigue was not just a reflection of poor sleep I know. As I've said before, there is a particular tiredness that only comes from a lack of red blood cell oxygen action.

I'm also more hair triggerie than usual (it's a word. Look it up. No, don't. We both know that will be a waste of time. But you still know what it means so it's a word! Logic -1, real words - 0). I'm anxious and extra cranky! That's just wonderful for everyone around me. I'm sure they've been so happy to share their days with me.

Oh and how bout this for the topper? My hair is falling out. Awesome huh? Love it. No really though, it is. Not in clumps. Just more. More when I comb my hair in the mornings. More when I take a shower. More when I brush. Just more you know? Heavy sigh. But after catching a glimpse of the flare I'm having on my scalp from this stupidity, I can't really say I'm surprised.

On a related note, kinda, minor acne. This is only notable because I do not break out. Can you imagine? An esthetician with breakouts? Ugh. And when I say minor, I seriously have 2 little itty bitty zits. On my chin. Hormones. Chin is hormone related, so my hormones are sad. Big surprise. Eat like crap, get sad hormones.

But!

I'm mostly settled in. By mostly I mean hardly at all but I can walk around without bumping into things and cook without having to remove boxes from the stove so we'll call that good for now. This means I'm back to cooking for my lunches. Getting back into my normal routine. Today was my first normal day since the move. Except I forgot my lunchtime supplements. Oh well. I had my morning dosages, and I'll remember them tomorrow.

And I'm super excited because I ordered "Practical Paleo" and it should be in tomorrow! The reviews of it are all around great, and she's apparently got a good autoimmune protocol and meal ideas to go with it (main reason for the purchase really), so Ima check that out!

Sorry for all the terrible grammar and non words, but I'm still "off". Thanks for not hating me :)

Random Stuffs

It's been a minute since I posted. I know someone other than my mom is reading this (and that's cool with me), so sorry to Mom and the other person(s) reading this that it's been a bit. Lots of stuff to talk about! Really lame boring things, so let us get to it!

I can't remember if I posted about this last time, and I'm too lazy to go check. So sorry if this is repeating myself. FYI, I really hate repeating myself so know that I'd never do it on purpose. Only out of laziness and/or forgetfulness. I tell long stories even if they're not long, so I'm going to make this as short as I can. I was on my walk one day and there's this dude jumping around on a tractor tire and whatnot. He convinces me to come work out with him, as he's a personal trainer guy. Word. So I do. Ouchies ensue. For days. I do it again because my tailbone did not slip at all the following week. That is super awesome! I come back to do it again. No dude. Dude gone. Poof! There are many possible explanations for this, however, I favor the following: He had little faith in little me. It was hard. But I worked really hard, and I can almost say I enjoyed it. If I said I liked it, that would be a lie, but not a big fat one. Why would I want someone to not have faith in me. Ummm, so I can prove them wrong of course! Geez. Why else? So, WATCH ME. I've been busting ass at home. I didn't work this hard before because frankly I think my doctor and physical therapist would have heart attacks. I don't want to be responsible for that! They've always told me "take it easy and don't push yourself too far, you'll only make things worse." So that's what I've done. Until now; so thank you magically appearing/disappearing guy for showing me that I can push myself and my tailbone will not pop out of my side via my liver or anything of that sort. Now I just need heavier weights.

But that has to wait. Because I'm flippin moving. In like 2 weeks. I hate moving. I feel like I live in a disaster area right now because everything is in boxes. Everything I don't use every single day anyway. Sigh. So last thing I want to do is move heavier weights. And after I move, I get to move again. Oh, and before I move, I am moving my bestie back to a place I'd already moved her. Lovely! Did I mention I hate moving? E freakin F.

I was on my walk in the park this evening and had a thought. When the flip did you bicycle people stop saying "on your left!" and why? Seriously. Like that's for real common sense right there. I know I'm a woman, and therefore have special super powers, but we don't actually have eyes in the backs of our heads you guys. I honestly don't know you're coming until you're already going (unless you have a loud bike. I don't know why some bikes are loud and some aren't, but you should from now on assume your bike is not loud). Now, what if a chipmunk jumped out of the bushes and I jumped to the left so as to not injure or frighten the little guy? Then what huh? That's right, ouchies all around for the humans. And it would be your fault. All yours. And I would wish you a constant slow tire leak that you could never fix even if you got a new tire because that's what you deserve for thinking I'd hurt a chipmunk. Jerk.

Speaking of bikes, we've been talking about the Zombie Apocalypse at work a lot over the last few weeks (nice segue huh?). My first stop? Bike shop. For a tricycle. For real. They make them for grown-ups. I can't ride a bike. Both because I never actually learned (shut up!) and because of my injury. I tried to learn a few years ago and if ever I'm interested in feeling the kind of pain I felt when I thought I wasn't going to be able to walk anymore, I'll give that another go. But really, that would be stupid. I'm not stupid, so I'm going to loot a tricycle instead. You laugh now, but I bet you haven't even thought that far ahead now have you? You think your car is going to get you far after the gas runs out all over town? You think the gas stations that aren't on fire will be open? Hells to the no! You need a bike (or tricycle...) to get from A to B. You're welcome. Next stop, a place that I can find a machine gun to mount on my tricycle handlebars. It will serve a dual purpose. Kill lots of zombies and simultaneously propel me away from them and out of danger, as the kick from a machine gun would for sure send me and my trike in the opposite direction. What could go wrong? I see no flaw in this plan. I swear I'm just brilliant sometimes.

I seem to be retaining/absorbing more iron. This is rad. I now take iron 3 days a week. You have no idea how happy I am to see pink nailbeds. It's the little things no?


M&M's make my ears pluggy. That's probably not a word, but you know what I'm talking about. Pluggy and itchy. And if I eat a whole big bag (the kind you buy in the candy isle, not the checkout stand) then I get so ear pluggy that I spend an entire Saturday sounding like a female impersonator from the drainage (ha ha... that's gross and you read it anyway). No joke. Well yeah, it's funny, but I'm being serious. I sounded like a man trying to sound like little ol' me. No, it's not the dairy. I can do dairy all day every day for weeks and only get a little mocos (the google machine will explain if you tell it to talk gross to you in Spanish), so it's not that. No. It's all the other shite in M&M's thankyouverymuch. I don't know why I need to OD on junk food in order to prove to myself it is in fact junk; but there it is.


I have become fond of the semicolon. It makes run on sentences feel less runn-y on-y. Sorry to all my English teachers ever for that sentence.

And lastly for the fun stuff, there are no attractive men in this town. At least not men that I am attracted to. Colorado is very white bread, and I've never been terribly attracted to my own race. This really has not much at all to do with anything, but I'm sharing ok? I told you from the outset, lame and boring.


OK.

The following stuff has nothing to do with my health or fitness (or lack of dating prospects), except perhaps in a round about way. It's super heavy to me and I need to get it out.

I think I've mentioned before that I live in the Mile High City. One reason I haven't posted recently is because I've been sad (sad being not good for your health). Sad and angry over the horrible things people are capable of. I don't know what it is about this town or this state, maybe the low oxygen levels or something, but I think we have more than our fair share of nut jobs. Transplants (like our latest "alleged" mass murderer) and natives (Columbine) alike pull this shit. I don't understand it, and it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart even more when the stories come out about the women protecting their children, and the men that decided to die so that others could live. Because THAT is what we should be. Those people are who we should strive to emulate. The ones willing to die to give other people a chance to survive the misplaced anger of some deranged idiot who blames everyone but himself for his problems. Now our state seems to have exported a white supremacist so full of hate that he's willing to kill people in their place of worship, and he may have had a friend who was late to the party. I do not understand. A Mosque was burned to the ground the next day in Missouri.

Something is very wrong in our country.

Under our skin, we're all the same bones and muscles and organs. If the aliens came down today they wouldn't know the difference between a Jew, Muslim, Christian, or Atheist. They would not comprehend the difference between Buddhist and Taoist philosophies. We'd all look and sound the same to them. Because we are. I'm so sick of us "othering" people we don't even fucking know (sorry Mom but sometimes you've got to drop the f bomb). We are far more alike than we are different. We are all descended from the same ancestors. We all want the same things. Hate is not useful. This has been an overwhelming month in our community. All because of anger and hate. Senseless and tragic.