The Further Adventures of Deluzy

Girl stuff

Hormones (to put it coyly) kept me from blogging yesterday. Or maybe it was the over-the-counter drugs.  Midol Complete tends to  make me dopey (despite the 60 mg. of caffeine in it). Or perhaps it's just that I've learned how to plunge myself into a stupor that's just above sleep so as to dull the pain of cramps and of inhabiting my body on Day One.  Whatever it was, my brain wasn't working enough to do anything.  Despite a healthier diet and increased exercise in recent weeks, the first day hit in full force, and I mostly just huddled under an afghan on the love-seat in my study, clutched a heated buckwheat pillow to my innards, and dozed.

Today will be a better day. Day 2 always is.

On other fronts, I've decided to offload the gel nails for now and see if I can stand going natural. I've worn gels or acrylics for 20 years because, as a little girl, I always wanted long nails and my own are very weak and break off before they do anything. In addition, I have short, stubby fingers, and I always thought longer nails disguised that a bit. (None of the girls in the family got my mother's long fingers, nails, or legs, more's the pity.) I've tried gelatin, vitamins, younameit ... but let's face it: I have thin hair and nails in my genes. Getting my nails done has always been the one kind of Barbie Doll indulgence I've gone for, and I've never cared that it looked artificial.  I liked the artificiality of it.

On the other hand, in addition to being expensive (I do not even want to calculate how much I've spent over the years on this particular habit, but it's in the thousands by now, and how silly is that -- especially when one is not rich?), it's certainly not good for one's real nails, and it's also time-consuming. That's my main complaint about it at this point in my life:  I really hate going every couple of weeks and sitting there for fills.  If I enjoyed the process, that would be one thing -- but I don't. The commodity I have least in my life at this point is time, and I chafe at the waste of it in the salon and would rather be doing something else.

So we'll see how I deal with the natural look for a little while. I cut down the gels last night and then removed them from my nails with only minimal surface damage. Then I filed my nails neatly, slapping a clear layer of Nailtiques on them. If I can survive the first couple of weeks, in which my sensitized nail beds, accustomed to being covered layers much thicker than my natural nails, register every change in temperature and even feel the wind blowing against them, I'll toughen up and be okay.

And if I can face starting the new school year in August without donning a new set, then I'm home free.

Assembly line

That article I've been working on?  It has, indeed, Left the Building at last  -- both electronically and via U.S. mail. 

I forgot that if it's seeking a home in a journal, rather than something that someone has requested for a particular edited collection, one has to write up a cover letter, pitching its brilliance and timeliness.  That delayed me a bit but now it's on its way. I'm printing out a copy for my dossier and moving on to generate the next submission, which will take longer.

Call me a hamster on the academic treadmill (which is exactly what I am). 

On the other hand, at least I'm doing what I was trained and educated to do -- research, write, and teach.  That's quite something -- especially when academic jobs are as scarce as the proverbial hens' teeth, and especially for one who stepped away from the academic scene for as long as I did.  I took a long damn time to write my Ph.D. dissertation -- so long that no one, including me, believed I would finish it -- and I left the university scene for any number of years with no thought of returning.

That fact that eventually I not only wanted to return but was able to do so is kind of remarkable. Unless you already have a home at a university and take a time-limited, circumscribed break, you leave and you don't have much chance of getting back in again. Not on a tenure-track. Not if you're past 40.

So in some ways my trajectory has been unorthodox but in its own way remarkable. (I need to remember that when I'm going through review hell this year and feeling anything but remarkable.)

iPod update

So now that my iTunes library is housed on my work laptop (a lovely, media-friendly MacBook Pro), I thought I wouldn't really have access to my music when I worked at home on my desktop (which is how and where I prefer to work) unless I plugged into my iPod itself and listened through my headphones.

(Eventually I'd like to get the Bose docking station and speaker set, pictured here -- a friend has it and I like it a lot.  However, in a month in which my main computer went down for the count along with my old iPod, necessitating repairs and replacement of various kinds, I just don't see myself springing for this little set-up quite yet.)

While I was at Fry's this afternoon, scouting out temporary solutions, I spied a 1/8" auxillary mini-jack cable for $20 (it should have been about $2.95, but never mind). I stared at it for a few minutes: I'm not a particularly technical person, but on the other hand, I know the ports on the equipment I have pretty well and I have a good idea of what they can and can't support. My guess was that the cable would fit the headphone jack on my iPod as well as the headset jack on my actual CPU and allow me to route the music on my iPod through my computer's stereo speakers. 

Yup -- jackpot!

So I'm good to go for now -- and pleased at my economical solution for the present. It beats paying a still-significant sum for a lesser system than the Bose simply as a stop-gap measure, which is what I was (unhappily) considering doing.

The Crying of Lot 49

BrontëBlog: A first edition of Jane Eyre auctioned.

Oh. My. God.

Now, see, if I won the lottery, this is the kind of thing I'd buy.  No, this would be what I'd buy.

I'd be the caller who phoned in the £17,000 winning bid -- and the plummeting American dollar be damned!

Oops

I glanced at the date today, frowned, and checked a file ... then felt extremely sheepish:  both my husband and I seem to have forgotten that yesterday was our 6th wedding anniversary.

I think we forgot last year, too.

I don't know what it is, but we're just not good about remembering. 

We're going to be disasters when we're genuinely old.  "Who are you?  My husband? Did we get married?"

Workout viewing pleasure

I've got the Eurythmics, Madonna, and Cyndi Lauper as the standard artists I listen to as I work out on the elliptical (incidentally, I just upped the difficulty of my workouts to the interval training program and added 5 minutes, and yes, indeedy, my heart's working harder -- says so on the heart-rate monitor that's part of the elliptical machine).

But I've discovered a new podcast for my new iPod Classic (which has the capacity to play video, as my recently deceased, older iPod did not), and it may become an elliptical favorite as well.

You don't even need an iPod to view it, of course.  You can just download it for free into iTunes (also free) on any computer. Although in that case, your piece of exercise equipment had better be strategically placed.

It's called The Rest of Everest, and if you're into the whole Everest body of literature and documentaries, it's many, many hours of footage and commentary that didn't make it into a documentary called Mount Everest: The Other Side.

Interesting for those who are obsessed with Everest, the podcasts are kind of meandering pieces in approximately 20-minute increments.  And if you check out iTunes, there are a lot of episodes.

Goody.

In the offing

Okay, the iTunes thing is as done as it's going to be.  For now.  That was this weekend's project, and I'm moving on. Glad I did it, though.

I thought to check the official university calendar for the upcoming academic year, and then I thought to check the calendar for the submission of the retention-tenure-promotion files for faculty in my year.

I choked.

Let's just say that next month I will be dividing my time among research/writing, dossier preparation, and course preparation.  But I knew that.  I did panic for about three minutes as I contemplated the juggling involved, and then I determined that if I divided the work days into thirds, starting the first week of August, I would, indeed, be able to get everything done.

Panicking won't help.  Breathing will.

Take a leaf out of Obama's book ...

Yes we can.

Yes I can.

I have some really cheesy CDs

That's become clear to me throughout this day as I've been uploading all of them into iTunes.

And that's all I'm going to say on the subject, other than to observe that I may have to buy a Partridge Family album -- which I would have scorned the first time around.

DItto ABBA.

(See what I mean?)

Trajectories and transitions

I'm really struck by a set of common experiences that people have with their WLS surgeries and the results -- and I'm talking across the board here: i.e., about those who have had the same kind of surgery, those who have had different kinds of surgery, and those who are at different points in the weight-loss, regain/bounce, or maintenance process.

On the one hand, the different experiences are as varied as the people themselves.  Duh.  But on the other hand, there seem to me to be certain periods and phases that we go through -- not necessarily in the same order or, even, necessarily, for the same reasons, or to the same degree.  I'm not talking about the changes in self-concept and identity that occur for some -- and the resulting and often dramatic reordering of lives. I'm simply talking about reactions that do come up pretty frequently across the WLS population -- myself included.

In no particular order, I think about the periods and head trips that I've gone through so far -- and continue to experience. 

• There's the fear at the start that one's WLS will not work -- because nothing else has in the past.  Not really. Not for any sustained period of time.  Will I be the one person for whom this surgery will not work?

• There's the amazement when the weight does start to come off.  Relatively quickly. It's the rediscovery of hope, the possibility of a second chance at health and normality.

(Relatively quickly but not effortlessly, I might add, because virtually every WLS patient must learn how to eat all over again for the particular requirements and demands of his or her form of surgery. Let me tell you, that's a process that takes place on every level -- mental, emotional, physical, psychological -- and that's before the going even gets tough and you run smack-dab into the issues you may or may not have known you had all along.)

• There's the gratitude that something is finally working.  It's really working.  Ohmygod, it's working.

• There's the panic that occurs when you encounter your first plateau. For some it occurs within the first 6 weeks to 2 months; for others it occurs a little later. For a lucky few, perhaps it never happens at all, but I haven't met those folks. My surgery has stopped working. I've broken it. Here I've put myself through financial, physical, and emotional hell ... I've risked my life in surgery and compromised my nutrition for the rest of my life ... and this has stopped working??? I am so fucked and I am so unhappy and scared.

• There's the first sprouting of the seeds of trust in one's surgery -- once the first plateau passes and the weight begins to drop again.  Maybe I can do this after all.  Maybe I'll get there.

• For me, however, that trust does not have strong roots because it's planted in the sandy, shifting soil of 40+ years of morbid obesity. At 2 years and 7 months out from my surgery, and after losing the basic amount of weight I'm going to lose (i.e., 110-120 pounds, from 280 to 155-170 or so), trust may be more difficult than it was in the beginning -- because now there's no dramatic weight loss to reassure me.  Instead, there are gains, losses, and fluctuations. I put myself through more head games and head trips now than I ever did during my weight loss phase.

And I guess that's where I find myself right now -- in the land of head trips when it comes to the scale, weight, and food intake. 

When I read  the blogs of folks who are closer to their surgery date than I -- say, within their first couple of years -- a lot of them remind me of myself when I was at that point, and I've got to say a lot of them sound a lot more grounded and less neurotic than I do now!  They're in that preliminary period where they're trusting their surgeries and themselves and forging a new relationship with food -- and they're not obsessing on the scale or a few pounds. They're not counting calories or points.  (If they're sensible, they're counting their protein grams, but that's a different issue.) They're letting the process work.

I remember that. I'd like to be there again. 

They're so relieved to be losing significant amounts of weight that they can't imagine worrying about 10 or 15 pounds when they've been 100, 200, or 300 pounds overweight. I have to say I totally get that. In fact, WLS folks who worried about anything less than, say, a 30-pound gain (why that number as opposed to any other?) bugged the crap out of me in the first couple of years, quite frankly. Jesus, stop being so fucking neurotic. Be glad you've lost the weight and don't fret about the details.  Make peace with a healthier weight, and don't drive yourself nuts.

And now I find that while I still feel that way intellectually, I myself am in a much more ambivalent state with respect to my own weight, post-weight-loss phase. No, I don't subscribe to a rigid window of opportunity when it comes to weight-loss windows; still, I'm pretty much at where I'm going to be, give or take, say, 10 pounds.

But there's the rub, you see. It's that plus-or-minus factor that never would have been anything I cared about at 280 that can make me a little nuts now.  And I'm not entirely sure why. ( I have some ideas about it, of course, some of which have to do with cultural expectations and experience and some of which have to do simply with my own psychological history, but I'm still mulling them over.)

It's a weird journey, that's for sure.  And it sure as shit doesn't end at "goal" weight.

iTunes -- the great time-sink of our age

So I'm doing a very geek-like thing -- something I probably should have done 4 years ago when I bought my first iPod -- and am uploading every last CD I own into iTunes.

Then I'm packing away all the CDs into the attic until such time as I decide to sell or give them away.  (Actually, I have nothing anyone would want to buy.  I could donate them.)  But that'll be awhile because I don't trust hard drives not to fail (gee, I wonder why), and I'll need several versions of my iTunes library stored on multiple sites before I feel comfortable getting rid of the CDs themselves.

Now, I'm not doing a geekier thing, which would be to sit there and rate all my tunes or obsess on the organization of the iTunes library itself. First things first.

I'm sure I could get there in time, though.

Done

Article's done.

Conclusion is written, document has been spell-checked, formatted, and printed out, and I simply have to do final copy-editing tomorrow.

I thought it was great; now I'm thinking it's junk, and the truth probably lies somewhere between.

No matter what it is, however, it's going out the door tomorrow.

I'm going to take the weekend off and start writing again on Monday, this time a preliminary chapter for my book project. That'll take a while, but I want at least a strong draft to go into my dossier by September.

Right now, though? I'm going to take a nap!

Thankyoubabyjesus

After a little over a day of intense file restoration, uploading, downloading, and configuring, my computer is pretty much there.  Additional tweaks will occur as needed, but I'm back in the game.

And although I had to do it manually, I was able to retrieve and upload about 95% of my iTunes library from the back-up disks that the Geek Squad made for me.  This time I put it on my MacBook Pro, as it's probably a more stable computer at this point and it does better with media generally than my 4-year old desktop Windows PC -- but I'm so much more comfortable working at home on a desktop that I don't want to give that up (obviously, given the tech hoopla of the past two weeks).

I held my breath as I tried syncing my new iPod to the Mac laptop -- and it worked! Things were way dicier when I tried it all with my PC yesterday.

Thankyoubabyjesus. 

Now I can hie myself to a Starbucks tomorrow (Friday)  to write the brief conclusion to my article while workers are trotting around the back yard outside my study window (my husband is master-minding a small yard-improvement project) -- and I can tune out the world while there by tuning into my iPod. Come hell or high water, that article is going out the door this weekend.

Oh, and I'm continuing to get on my elliptical, and the nighttime dissociative eating thing hasn't happened in a couple of nights.  Step by step.

Life may be looking up.

RDA nutritional guidelines: carbs and calories

Click to enlarge.

I haven't decided what I think about these standard nutritional guidelines in relation to being a DS patient, other than to note the obvious, which is that DS absorption issues skew  these recommendations. Obviously.

However,  I note that its recommendations for daily calories consumed  for a woman of my age and height are right about what I'm averaging in Fitday -- on one of my major intake days.  Which doesn't even take into the account the fact that I malabsorb a significant percentage  (though who really knows how much, at this point) of the calories I do consume.

So maybe the amounts I'm eating just aren't that unreasonable, particularly considering that I am a DS patient.

Here's an interesting link to the median intake of carbs for men and women:

The Recommended Dietary Allowance (RDA) for carbohydrate is set at 130 g/d for adults and children based on the average minimum amount of glucose utilized by the brain. This level of intake, however, is typically exceeded to meet energy needs while consuming acceptable intake levels of fat and protein ...The median intake of carbohydrates is approximately 220 to 330 g/d for men and 180 to 230 g/d for women. Due to a lack of sufficient evidence on the prevention of chronic diseases in generally healthy individuals, no recommendations based on glycemic index are made.

So, in other words, Americans tend to consume more carbs than is recommended (we know that, and I certainly fall into that camp). 

On a bad day, I'll get on up there into the median zone cited here.

But not even necessarily on a regular basis, and not when I'm staying aware.

So maybe I've been totally freaking myself in the past several weeks about my intake (somehow I think *S* might be nodding her head vehemently right about now).  Maybe, with the exception of eating too many carbs for my own good, I'm not that weird or unusual.  Maybe the 8-10-pound gain I've experienced in the past year really is about a DS bump that's minor and not unreasonable or a symptom of a dysfunctional relationship to food (which I nevertheless do have, however).

Interestingly, according to the chart at the top of this chart, my current weight is perfectly reasonable for a woman of my age and height.

(Man, and I don't even think of myself as a person who head-trips herself that much about food intake, weight, and all the rest ... but I clearly do.  Not to state the obvious or anything.)

Tech restoration

I was up late last night, beginning the long process of restoring to and configuring software on my repaired computer, and I'm continuing that process today.  (Yes, I'm being a bit OCD about it all -- though the rather neurotic benefit of being occupied thus in the evening was that it didn't occur to me to binge -- or even to eat.  In fact, I was hungry shortly after midnight, realized I hadn't eaten enough yesterday generally, and went for a banana. Relatively harmless choice, though okay, it didn't include protein.)

This process is likely to take a few days to be completed entirely, and I'm trying to approach it in logical, manageable, prioritized chunks:

• I contacted Norton Symantec and got them to reinstall the virus protection on my computer before I did anything else (which they did remotely, as I'd lost the product key to my subscription; watching my mouse race around on my desktop clicking on various screens through no action of my own  was like watching a possessed Ouija board, and it also brought home the reality that cyber-villains out there really can hack into your computers in live time -- only the chances are you won't see them doing it. Scary. (Once this subscription expires in just over three months, I'm going to opt for Trends Micro, I think.)
• I downloaded Firefox.  (Yes, I hate Internet Explorer.)
• I downloaded bookmarks onto the computer from Foxmarks (a great tool when you're recovering from a computer wipe-out, as your bookmarks are stored on a remote server, and it's also wonderful if, like me, you use multiple computers but want a consistent, updated set of bookmarks on each one).
• I copied key work and professional files to the computer (god, how many back-up copies do I have of my doctoral dissertation, I ask you?!  It's done, it's filed, it's old news ... )

This morning I've reinstalled Microsoft Office and set up Outlook to manage my two primary email accounts (that took me an hour, as I swear to god I entered the correct POP information for both accounts in all relevant screens because I honestly do know what I'm doing with that  -- but clearly I made a mistake somewhere. Haven't the faintest idea what it was, but after an hour I was suddenly deluged with email from both accounts, and yes, I can also send from both.  Hallelujah.)

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and offered up thanks to my BlackBerry because once I'd reinstalled the desktop software for it, I was able to repopulate Outlook's calendar, contacts, notes, and other data from that.  (The Geek Squad backed up Outlook data I had, but even after following instructions I was unable to import that data from the CDs they gave me -- and I've totally lost 4 years worth of work-related emails. Oh well ... maybe it was time for a purge, and this was going to be the only way I was going to do it because I'm a pack-rate with such files.

(Now  that my calendars are synced, I see that I've missed a hematologist appointment scheduled for this morning -- a three-month follow-up with an old guy whom I didn't like who's filling in for my regular hematologist on maternity leave.  She returns in September.  I'll reschedule for then. Now that I have my Outlook back, I see that there are any number of emails and matters I need to attend to that I lost track of in the past couple of weeks because I do depend rather heavily on a centralizing management system. If you've emailed me and I haven't replied, I apologize ... I'm getting to it.)

I'm leaving iTunes and my new iPod as issues to deal with later today or this evening. However, though the Geek Squad did back up my iTunes library, it looks as if only some of those files are viable, for reasons I don't totally understand.  At this point, I think I'm going to make my MacBook Pro my primary media computer, so I'll try to set up files there and see if I have any better luck with importing and syncing files there than I had last night.

Now, however, it's time to get on the elliptical, shower, dress, change, and write a conclusion to my article -- which is now about two and a half weeks overdue (according to my own personal time frame for sending it out) but which is also damn good at last -- if I do say so myself.

(That I even can say that and mean it [even for a nano-second] is progress on my part.)

Eyes

Results of today's appointment:

• Ocular pressure (a barometer of possible glaucoma) down 10 points from my pre-DS days (which is amazing)  -- but still a little high, either because I have thick corneas or because I may be pre-glaucomic. I go back for further tests in a couple of weeks.
• Left optic nerve looks a little thin or worn.
• Earlier minimal damage from Type II diabetes, pre-DS days, still evident (there's no turning back the clock on that one, but at least the DS stopped it in its tracks).
• Multiple cataracts in both eyes -- which surprised me, though my two older sisters have them.  These days in western industrialized countries, cataracts are not a big deal and can be easily removed.

But the problem I went in complaining about? The blurriness in my eyes after reading at the computer or reading books?  Middle age (and not the cataracts, btw, which aren't yet visible to the naked eye or impeding my vision).  Less elastic eye muscles, and yes, I should make a point to look up every 20-30 minutes and refocus on things at a distance.

P.S. My computer is back.  Running like a dream -- because there's nothing on it, really. Slowly I'm restoring files and programs but it's going to take a couple of days.  I gave Starbucks gift cards to a few of the tech guys and the manager.  (Well, yesterday they really did do what they were supposed to do and went the distance.)

Ophthamologist

It's been well over three years since I've been to my eye doctor, and now that I'm having some trouble with my sight (chiefly extended blurriness when I've spent a lot of time in front of the computer  or been reading a lot -- both of which I do all the time for personal and work-related activities), I figured it's time.

I have a 1:30 p.m. appointment today.

I suspect the culprit is simply eyestrain in aging eyes -- but the you-never-know factor is prompting me to get my ass into the doctor's office at last with my trifocals in hand. As a Type II diabetic (now in remission, thanks to the DS), I was sent to him originally for assessment of any diabetes-related damage (minimal). There's a history of glaucoma that runs in my family, as well as cataracts, and I was showing some signs of the former.

I don't much like going to the ophthalmologist.  Dilations, peripheral vision tests, bright lights.  I come away from them with sore eye muscles and sensitive eyes.

But I don't wanna go blind, either, so hey ... this is preferable.

In the meantime I'd best get some work done this morning before the appointment. (Despite all the hoopla around my computer issues, I have, indeed, been getting research and writing done, which is rather amazing to me when I stop to think about it.)

Oh, and ...

The Geek Squad told me that they were able to back up my iTunes library before wiping out my (now defeective) hard drive (which is being replaced).

So while I'm going to have to wait until January to get that scooter I want, I splurged and bought a replacement iPod Classic in silver.  It's the nearest thing to my 4-year old iPod that gave up the ghost a couple of days ago -- only for the price I paid 4 years ago, you now get 60 gigs more memory, a color screen, a cooler interface, and the ability to play video.

I was perfectly happy with my old iPod and wish it hadn't died -- but I guess I'll enjoy the new and improved features of its replacement as I get to know them.

The thing is, I listen to my iPod as I walk, work out, work in my office (faculty share offices at my university so frequently one needs to drown out tne sound of one's office mate and her students in order focus on one's own work), and work in public spaces such as coffee houses. I listened to my iPod in the hospital in the middle of the night as I was recovering from my DS. I didn't need the 80 gigs that the iPod Classic comes with, but I was using about 15 gigs of my old iPod, and that's a step up from the cheaper Nano.

I teach media, so I suppose I can deduct this as a business expense -- but still. Let's just say it's been an expensive month.

Binge eating

I'm just realizing today that I can differentiate between two different kinds of binging behaviors in which I engage from time to time:

1. Stress-related: This can occur at any time of the day for me but is also the easiest for me to intervene in and either head off at the pass or minimize.
2. Night-time: Much, much older and more automatic/unconscious/semi-conscious and a much harder nut for me to crack -- no doubt because it's actually linked to earlier forms of clinical dissociation for me during childhood sexual abuse that usually occurred after 9 p.m.

It's the nighttime stuff that's presenting an occasional problem now. I've certainly made the connection to nighttime abuse and eating but not to the actual dissociative disorder I suffered from as a result of the abuse or its connections to food -- so that's an idea that's probably worth taking up with my therapist this week! 

I think it may even be that, as I reach for a food item after 9 p.m., that actually triggers a low-level dissociative response in me from days gone by -- Pavlov's dogs, etc. It's not even that I'm particularly stressed as I reach for the cookie -- it may just be habit that then inadvertently triggers this deep, deep kind of zoning out, even when I'm not seeking that palliative effect. Yeah, that's really feeling right to me ... although man, talk about early conditioning and outdated ingrained responses.

The challenge is going to be learning how to wake myself up from that kind of psychological absence -- and it may simply have to begin with simple behavior modification: no eating after 9 p.m., that old, old witching hour that used to signal scary nights for me -- so that the Pavlovian response doesn't get triggered in the first place.

The Geek Squad: someone may be home ...

After a 3 p.m. call today telling me "everything's fine and fixed -- except that now your hard drive appears to be on the verge of crashing," Frightmare Customer (that's me) paid a visit to the store, refused to accept the CPU back, and sat down and talked with two of the tech guys, who called over a store manager to whom I had not yet spoken.

And, finally, I had a decent conversation with the folks at Best Buy.

I didn't rant or rave, I didn't trash the tech guys themselves (because actually, they've worked hard, I know) -- I trashed the process, the work flow,  the communication, and the length of time it's taken to deal with these problems. (Why is a hardware issue surfacing only on Day 13?)

And, either because she was being genuine or just doing her effective managerial thing, the manager (who looked to be about the age of my students) listened, seem to hear me, and then took about five minutes away to consult with one of the techs. 

They came back and offered me a free install of a new comparable hard drive at half price (around $40 on sale).

Agreed.

The manager appreciated that I wasn't trashing her employees; her employees appreciated that I wasn't trashing them to their boss; I appreciated that the manager listened, understood the larger issues I was focusing on, and agreed that given all the inconvenience and hassle, I deserved some consideration.

(God, that's all I wanted -- a little accountability and some hands-on problem-solving rather than a sheer paint-by-numbers, tunnel-vision approach. Yeah, I know it's a drag, but we all have to do it if we want to do a good job at whatever our work is and be responsible people.)

We'll see how this all turns out in the end (yeah, it's going to be a couple of more days), but if things remain on an upswing,  I might deal with the Geek Squad again in the future -- if that manager runs interference for me!

The Geek Squad

July 2

I take my 4-year old desktop PC into BestBuy (where I originally bought it) and tell them it's been infected by two viruses.  I tell them the names of the viruses, ie., Malware Protection and Antivirus Windows. They tell me they'll perform ADR (advanced diagnostics and repair) on it for $200, and they tell me it will be ready by July 5.

I call for updates. "Your hardware passed, but you have two viruses on your computer."  (I know. I'd even identified the two viruses for them, as noted above.) "We'll get back to you."  They don't. I call for further updates. Never once do they call me. "It's taking a little longer than we anticipated." No shit.

July 9 (4 days after the estimated return date of the computer):

I go to the store to pick up the computer. A nice boy, looking hassled and a litle overwhelmed, tells me he'd almost given up on the computer, but "compared to when you first brought it in, it's running great now."

A warning bell goes off in my head. "Er, so is it running well now, period? Is it fixed?"   I'm assured that it is.

I lug home the CPU, hook everything back up, and turn it on.  Windows comes up -- and freezes.  Can't do a thing.  (At least before I took it in, the computer was simply very slow.)  I do a hard shut-down because I have no other choice, wait, and turn it on again.  Blue Screen of Death.

Greatly irritated, I disconnect everything and haul the CPU back into the Geek Squad.  They plug it in and see the BSOD for themselves. They write up a new ticket. Estimated date of completion for whatever ails the computer: July 12.

July 12 

They haven't called me.  I call them. "Your hardware is fine."  (Okay, maybe they just had to convince themselves once again that it was still fine.)  "But it looks as if the viruses corrupted some of the core files, so we're still working on those."

Beyond angry now at the sheer redundancy, lack of efficiency, and waste of their time and mine, I go into Frightmare Customer mode because, really, I've had it.  I ask to talk to a manager.  They tell me one will call me back in 5-10 minutes. 30 minutes later, one does, and he repeats what I've already been told.

"Look, this isn't rocket science!" I exclaim.  "How about wiping out the hard drive, since it's okay, and reinstalling the operating system?  It makes no sense to keep tweaking corrupted software this way!"

Apparently he was just about to suggest this.(But you know, if I can figure this out, why couldn't they -- just a wee bit sooner?!)

I suggest that, given how long they've had my computer and how ineptly this order has been handled (I know -- I'd hate me, too, at this point, but THIS IS MY MAIN WORK COMPUTER!!!), they back up my personal data for free before wiping everything out and starting over again.  To be fair, they agree without a fight.

But then we go around the block about getting my signature on an authorization form.  Rules and regulations.  They need that signature.  They'll fax it to me.  (Um, no, I'm at home where my only access to a fax is via the software on the computer that they're about to zap.)

How about a phone authorization or email, I suggest, anger making my voice admittedly shrill (I am not walking into that store a third time until my computer is fixed and ready to go)?  They don't like that idea.

In full Frightmare Customer mode now, I demand to speak to the manager's manager.  Who authorizes an email exchange so that i can okay the data back-up, wipe-out, and system software restore.

Oh, and it'll be another 2-3 days for this back-up and reinstallation of the operating system to be done. 

Whatever. By this point I'm so bitched out, I agree, coldly, and hang up.

July 14, 9:04 p.m.

I get a voice-mail from a low-level Geek Squad guy telling me, somewhat incoherently, that they've backed up the data, they've restored the operating system, everything's fine.  So the computer will be ready the next day -- well, all they have left to do is the Windows updates, and then I can pick it up.

So is it ready or not ready?

July 15: 10:30 a.m.

I call around 10:30 a.m. and get the guy who left the message.  He repeats the content of his message.  I repeat my question -- ready or not ready? 

Not ready.  But it will be ready.  He'll call me later today when it is ready.

By when? 

Probably by 3 p.m.

Frightmare Customer comes raging back.  "Nope, this needs to be done now.  You've had this computer 12 days."

He says he'll call. We hang up.

Are we having fun yet?

You know, I love the concept of the Geek Squad. I love the name and the imagery, and I've got to say that all the guys I've dealt with there have been ... nice.  And the higher up the chain of command I've gone, the more responsive and able to think things through the individuals have been.

But something is seriously fucking wrong with this store's work flow, communication, and performance.  I know I'm only one of many customers there, and that the world does not revolve around me or my messed-up computer. But that's no excuse for the sheer ineptitude of how this whole thing has been handled at each step along the way. I mean, you kind of have to work hard to fuck up this much.

What's the deal? Too many part-timers and hand-offs with no accountability?  Too few employees?  What????

I've taken my cmputers -- including this one -- to the Geek Squad for upgrades and repairs in the past, but once this is over I'm sure not going to do it again.

Back in my happy zone

Goal weight: 159. Happy zone: 159 +/- 5 pounds. 

This morning I was 163.6, down 2.6 from last week and considerably more than that from my frightmare high of 169.2  that sent me around the bend a couple of weeks ago. Officially I'm back in my happy zone.

(Note: There's nothing intrinsically wrong with that higher number for a woman of my age and height, or for anyone else, frankly. It's not the number itself but what it represents to me that I find hard to deal with:  i.e., I allowed my weight to climb to a point that I did not feel personally comfortable with. For most formerly morbidly obese people, especially those who have had successful WLS, gains like that are threatening. That's what this is all about, rather than about being some ideal, prescribed weight.  Hell, I think according to Weight Watchers I should weigh anywhere from 138-154.  Uh, no thanks.  I've seen skinny on others; it just doesn't wear well and it's not something to which I'd aspire, you know?)

My lower weight this week is a combination of factors: 1)  this tends to be the point in my cycle when my weight is lower; 2) I've been tracking my food carefully in Fitday, which has caused me to eat fewer calories, though not necessarily to eat as well as I ought; and 3)  I've been exercising more.

Yeah, I'm one of those middle-aged DS women (I'm 47) who, at 2 years and 7 months out from surgery, is able to eat a fair amount of food but who also must exercise -- as in, put in some genuine sweat equity -- if she's going to do that and maintain the weight she wants. I suspect this will be true for younger, 30-something DS women as they age, too, because it's a pretty common experience among women generally, WLS patients or otherwise.

Welcome to the human race.  Welcome to normal.

Ya know?

My 4-year old iPod died this afternoon. 

This lovely little graphic indicates hardware failure.

I can either buy it a new hard drive or I can just buy a new iPod.

Oh, and my PC?  It's still in the hands of the Geek Squad -- 10 days and counting. And my iTunes library?  It's on that computer, and my guess is they're not going to back it up that portion of my personal data.

I'm fucked.

(Somehow I think that scooter purchase I'm fantasizing about is just going to have to remain a fantasy for the foreseeable future ...  in fact, I'm going to reframe that goal now and aim for January 1 rather than September 1. That will allow me a reasonable time to get the cash together, still meet other obligations, possibly strike a good deal during an off-season, and continue to research my options. It kills me to pay what we';re paying for gasoline, just on general principle, and I hate driving an SUV on a daily basis.  But I need to bide my time on this one.  I'm still going to take that motorcyle safety course next month, though, and get that license.)

Profit, progress, or a little of both?

A couple of weeks ago as I had the radio on in the car, I heard an ad for Shreve & Co., a local, traditional San Francisco-based jeweler founded in 1852, and it was like all the other jewelers' ads you hear on the radio: real people or actors touting the positive experience they had in shopping at the store -- except that, listening with only half an ear, I thought I heard a male voice discussing how he and "Rick" had found their rings at Shreve & Co.

I chuckled rather cynically to myself, thinking I had to have misheard because that jeweler is too traditional to market specifically to a gay clientele but also thinking, "Too bad -- they ought to!"

And then last week I heard a variation on the ad - this time with three couples talking: a guy referring to his wife, the same man who spoke of Rick, and then a woman, talking about how she and her partner -- a woman -- had found just the right rings for their wedding ceremony at Shreve,

This time, there was no mistaking it.

If I'd needed further confirmation of what I'd heard, a local talk radio program devoted an hour to discussing the Shreve ad the other night, with folks calling in to discuss their opinions of it.

My own opinion?  I think it's great. 

Yeah, okay, folks can see it as crass commercialism with Shreve simply trying to get  a percentage of gay and lesbian dollars being spent on newly legal marriage celebrations in California -- and I'd agree that that's certainly going on.

I also realize that there are straight folks out there who feel threatened by gay marriage (I'm just not even going to go there -- I don't get it and I won't dignify that perspective by writing about it).

I know, too, that there are gays and lesbians who aren't thrilled with the concept of duplicating what some view as heterosexist norms represented by marriage (that argument leaves me lukewarm, but hey, I respect folks' right to make it).

All of that said, the reason I think the Shreve ad is cool is because it's absolutely as unspectacular and boring as all its other ads have been.  They changed nothing, other than to incorporate the reality of gays and lesbians who might be into shopping for rings there, too.

Frankly, I trolled the internet for the rings that my husband and I used because the whole jewelry store experience was so icky and gross -- folks pushing the goods as hard as possible.

But if traditional jewelers didn't turn me off so much and I had a need for one, I'd consider shopping at Shreve's.

Elliptical

I dusted off my FitnessQuest Eclipse elliptical machine once again and climbed on it this morning. I got it several years ago and have always liked it for its small footprint and multiple features.  It's by no means gym-quality -- but it's more than enough machine to provide a good workout.

Its batteries are dead because I haven't gotten on the thing in so long so its tracking and monitoring features were disabled, as were its various preset routines.

But a trip to the store should take care of it, and in the meantime I was still able to work up  a sweat in manual mode.

Good for the body and for the head.

Another tool

in the arsenal against stress, that is. 

Yes, I'm going to try crocheting again as a way to keep my hands busy and productive in the evenings after work and let my brain do its unwinding thing in the background. I love reading, but sometimes I lose myself so fully in a book that it's a way of blocking stuff out.  Which is fine, too -- upon occasion -- but not always what I need and somehow not right for me during these summer days.

I only ever learned a single crochet stitch, as  recall, but I've made several afghans, and so I went online and found this pattern for what looks to be a basic baby blanket.  I took myself off to a local crafts store today to buy yarn and a couple of very inexpensive how-to/pattern booklets as well, so if this one turns out to be too tough, I can opt for something else.

Of course, I don't have a baby myself and I don't happen to know any babies in need of a blanket right now -- but that's hardly the point.  Anyway, a woman I know online has mentioned a network of women who make baby blankets for babies and mothers in shelters or hospitals who otherwise don't necessarily have gifts or special items made for them, and I thought that sounded cool. There's probably something like that around me, if I search a little.

(In fact there is -- a local chapter of Project Linus.  Check it out for your area and your state if you're so inclined.)

Might as well give it a whirl, anyway.

A different kind of community

Yesterday I wrote about community, among other things, and (by implication) how it may be more difficult for some to achieve a sense of belonging and connectedness, simply because of changing demographics and contemporary life choices.

But there are online, virtual communities -- in fact, they fall under the umbrella of matters that are of professional interest to me -- and I'm rich in those.  I would not have gotten my DS  and I would not have fared as well immediately after surgery without them. I participate in an online support group around head issues and weight (not related to the WLS community), and they're a huge support as well.

So, for that matter, are individual bloggers whose work I read and whose words generally help me each and every day, though they may never know it.  These blogs are listed in the lefthand side bar of my own.

In particular, in recent days, two have helped me:  Tia and Jen.  I've never met either of them; I know them only through their blogs, and they are both amazing, inspirational women on so many different fronts. I can read them when I'm feeling screwed up and they bring a clarity to whatever they're writing about -- even if it's their own occasional frustrations and confusion -- that is instantly helpful as I process My Own Stuff.

So thanks, guys. A lot.

(More) even keeled

I don't know if I'm more relaxed, less stressed, or merely deluding myself, but I decided last night to take a mental health day today, do no work, and I believe I'm feeling more even-keeled as a result.

Part of it has to do with having had a few good conversations -- on and off the topic of my work/professional stress ("But enough about me -- what do you think of me?") with my husband last night and then with a couple of good friends, each of whom called me rather unexpectedly today.  One of them will be in the area next week, so we're going to get together (she's my former grad student and the first person I knew who had the DS); the other -- C --is an old friend from college.  Simply getting out of my own head and connecting with others was good, I realized. Sometimes too much of my own company is not a good thing.

C and I discussed the lack of community we are experiencing as we head toward 50 (both of us are married but without children by choice).  Sometimes the workplace provides community, but that's kind of limited  by professional boundaries that are necessarily in place, and once one leaves high school or college or grad school, one's network of personal friends often shrinks.  The slack often gets picked up by child-rearing and the networks formed through one's children's activities and lives, but if one's own life isn't organized around children, that option's out. If one's actively religious, that community can be similar to a family tie -- but an organized religious community isn't a feature of of either of our lives.

(Good arguments for both children and religion, actually -- though not good enough in and of  themselves. :)  But its true that I often wonder about the organization of post-industrial societies like ours and how un-self-sustaining they may be.)

Anyway, the conversation that C and I had this afternoon wasn't about regret but about choices and trade-offs -- and of course the older one gets, the more one thinks about such things, even as (hopefully) one comes to greater terms with oneself and life generally. It was good. I simply wish we didn't live in different states and could hang out together more often. 

I seem to be feeling less compulsive and freaked out over food and eating in the past 24 hours as well -- which is good, as the Ben and Jerry's episode sent me temporarily around the bend.  When I freak out (over anything), I go into lock-down mode -- i.e., I get very rigid and try to impose controls which don't usually work, or work for long,  because they're pretty artificial and shame-driven, and then I just keep on freaking out.

I considered eating nothing at all yesterday after the B&J incident of the night before, with possibly the exception of two protein shakes that would bring me in around 320 calories for the whole day -- but the thing is, while I have thoughts of restricting, I don't actually have a successful history of it (-- and yes, I realize that I don't want such a history --> I already have a history with binge-eating, and that right there is difficult enough).

I'd also considered trying to throw up the B&J's the night before as I was lying in bed -- more disordered thinking -- but I gave up on that idea because, though I felt kind of awful, I didn't feel like throwing up, and I also knew that if I ever started down that path, that could be a whole 'nuther can of worms, emotionally and physically. One eating disorder is enough! I told myself grimly, as I lay in bed.

So I tolerated the grossness of a pint of Ben & Jerry's in my DS system that night, ate regular choices and amounts of foods yesterday,  and ended up coming in at 132 carbs, 92 of grams protein, and 1,837 calories. I started to obsess at the end of the day about whether those numbers were too high or too low, and I simply needed to make myself STOP IT.  I'm going to finish out the week tracking in Fitday, and then I'm going back to my simple listing of daily foods in a notebook -- because while Fitday has been a good reality check for me this week, it also has the capacity to drive me as nuts as the scale sometimes. Well, obviously, given the train of thought I just outlined.

Step away from the pathology.

The good news is that this week's tracking has shown me that II still have a pretty good sense of the different nutritional values of the foods I eat. And recording in Fitday once again has reminded me of some of the food items I depended on in the earlier days of my DS  -- either as treats or as staples -- and has allowed me to rediscover them, which has been a plus.  I'm happy about that.

So, with a little more than 2 days left in the Fitday tracking experiment, I'd say it's been worth it.

Lighten up

The feedback (here and elsewhere) is that I need to chill out and cut myself some slack in the aftermath of the B&J's incident from last night.

I don't entirely agree.  It was a slip of addiction (so I should punish myself?) -- not the act of eating ice cream itself but the amount, and fact that I ate it rather mechanically but with determination, waaay past the point of enjoying it -- but I probably do need to let it go, if only to move past it. It's certainly what I can and have told others to do, so am I going to exempt myself from my own advice? These aren't moral issues; they don't even have to be huge head trips -- although my overeating has always been emotional, and I tend to need to look at that when I diverge from the food path I intend to follow.

Am I hard on myself?  I feel as if I am in other realms (work, perhaps) but not over food-related/DS-related matters.  On the other hand, I was stressing about work, mostly, when I ran afoul of B&J's, so the two are no doubt linked.

Either way, I'm realizing I need to come up with some comforting strategies for the evenings, when I have always been the most vulnerable to eating for emotional sustenance anyway. And now that old history/pattern is coming up for me at the end of each summer work day, as I assess what I've gotten done that day and figure out goals for the next day. Lots of anxiety hits then but I haven't really been acknowledging it, just shoving it aside and hoping it will go away.

I need to let myself have 15-30 minutes at the end of each day to process and make the transition from work to relaxation, acknowledge fears, talk myself through them, reframe them, and let go until the next day. Otherwise I simply want to stuff fears and tension by turning my attention immediately to, say, reading for pleasure (or food) to "bury" the fear and distract myself from it.

I've met my writing goals for each day this week, however, and so that feels good -- this, despite the BSOD and ongoing computer woes.

I'm tracking in Fitday this week, too, more so that I can review the results after 7 days and analyze my food choices a little more carefully rather than with the intent of restricting this week. And that feels positive.

So maybe I need to focus on these things rather than on my slips.  It's one thing to accept responsibility for the latter; it's another to flagellate myself over them.