Pilates and Cupcakes, The Sequel

The Pilates Part
I pulled myself out of bed and made it to Pilates at 5:58 this morning. It was definitely the "I'm so self-righteous that there's no way I'm not going to class this morning" thing that got me out of bed. Saturday's class is at 10. I think I can manage that. The next real test will come Tuesday morning when it's up before the birds again.

(Did I mention that I can feel muscles I didn't know I had?)

The Cupcake Part
I took my mom to my favorite cupcake place today. I was busy photographing my cupcake so didn't notice her method. I looked up to see this:

Look familiar? I apparently learned my cupcake consuming method from my mother.

Pilates and Cupcakes

The Pilates Part
This morning I started a Pilates class. At 6 a.m.! I don’t usually do mornings. Particularly not for exercise. Yet, to my amazement and the amazement of all who know me, I pulled myself out of bed this morning at 5:15 and was out of the house by 5:30, dressed with my hair and teeth brushed.

It’s about 2 p.m. now. Throughout the day I’ve felt myself walking a bit taller and feeling a bit self-righteous. After all, I’m now the kind of person who gets up before the birds to exercise. I hope the push of self-righteousness lasts long enough for this to become a habit. The next test comes Thursday morning, a mere 39 hours from now.



The Cupcakes Part
Eating cupcakes takes the form of a ritual for me. I set the cupcake on the plate and pause to admire it. Often I whip out my camera and take a picture, even if I already have many similar photos of similar cupcakes. Next I carefully (so as not to smudge the icing) pick it up and remove the paper wrapper from the stump. I then remove the top from the stump and set it gently on the plate, still careful not to disturb the icing. Then I eat the stump, breaking off bite-size pieces, never taking a bite directly from the stump. When the stump is gone and my coffee is about half finished (I did mention that a cupcake should be accompanied by coffee, didn’t I?), I finally take a bite of the top. Carefully, so as to leave the icing as intact as possible until the last bit finds its way into my mouth.

I’m not sure if this excruciating method signifies my deep affection for cupcakes or just offers a glimpse into my disturbed obsessive-compulsive mind. Whatever the reason for my ritual, it’s a ritual I look forward to. I wonder if I would like cupcakes as much if I didn’t care how they are eaten?

Age Appropriate?

My dog is going to die soon. I can’t stop crying about it every time I think about it. Is it wrong of me to cry more for my elderly dog than I did for my grandparents? I’ve had my dog for 7 years. She was 7 ½ when I got her from the Australian Shepherd Rescue. Her previous owner had died and she was in need of a new forever home.

My breed research told me that I could expect her to live until she was around 12, giving me 5 years with her. I calculated how hold my then 1-year-old daughter would be and decided that 6 was an ok time to lose a first pet.

My daughter will be 9 next week. I’ll be 39 in two months. There’s no good age to lose a pet.

Me Time

L went back to school yesterday after an unexpectedly long (due to snow days from school) Christmas break. I spent yesterday putting away Christmas and putting the house back in order. Today is all about me!

After almost three weeks of nearly constantly being in someone else’s presence and being responsible for things that others need from me, it’s nice to make my own decisions. I took a nap after dropping L at school this morning. After my rest, I joined a friend for a leisurely lunch. Followed by a walk in blustery weather, taking pictures for my new photo project.

Side Effects May Include Loss of Appetite

I love food. At least I used to love food.

When I say I love food, I'm not talking about just enjoying eating. Don't get me wrong, loving food generally goes hand-in-hand with loving to eat. But my love for food goes beyond the physical act of consuming caloric sustenance.

I love every aspect of food: reading cookbooks, food magazines, restaurant reviews, food blogs, and anything else written about food; watching TV and movies that feature food--instructional, reality, or fictional that feature beautiful food; dining out; cooking simple or elaborate meals for myself and my family and friends; even cleaning the kitchen after a day spent preparing food.

When I travel, I spend weeks, if not months, researching the food available in the area I will be visiting. I dine at the high-end restaurants with fancy tasting menus and famous chefs if my budget can afford it. (On a recent extravagant trip I totaled 12 Michelin Stars!) I ask the locals about their favorite restaurants and what food they think best represents their region and am lead to tiny gems that escape under the radar of many tourists.

Well, I did do all that. Before I started taking Wellbutrin. I knew that Wellbutrin could have appetite suppression as a side effect but thought that wouldn't be bad. Heck I might just lose a few pounds. (I should note here that, though I love food, my weight is within the normal limits for my height.)

What I wasn't expecting was that I would lose my desire for food. I eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full. I have a hard time selecting food to eat because nothing sounds appetitizing. Don't get me wrong, when I put something in my mouth, I still want it to taste good. But it's usually whatever is at hand rather than something I have schemed and planned for.

In the past month, I've eaten out four times at restaurants that would ordinarily have me planning for days and reliving the memories for a while after the meal. I don't remember what I ate at any of the restaurants. (Though I DO remember the lovely time I had with my friends even though I didn't really care about the food.)

Last night I discovered the extent of my indifference to food. My sister and I always watch Top Chef together. I make a big batch of my amazing stove-top, real-butter popcorn while my sis mixes the drinks. I always watch the food intently and listen to what the judges say about the quality, the seasoning, the techniques. The interpersonal stuff between the contestants is fun but for me the show is all about the food. Until last night when the new season of Top Chef began. Like always, my sis and I sat down to watch together. But this time I didn't make popcorn. We watched the show but I couldn't tell you a single thing about any of the food except that I knew that the girl who made the boring salad would be the first to go home.

When the warnings said "loss of appetite," I was expecting to not feel hungry. I didn't think I would lose my desire for food and all things food-related. Webster lists "desire" and "hunger" as synonyms for appetite. So I guess it could be said that I have lost my appetite in all senses of the word.

I'm trying to figure out how I feel about this "loss of appetite." In all other respects, my emotional life is significantly better since I started taking Wellbutrin. I seem to have no other side effects related to the Wellbutrin. SSRIs gave me headaches, a lack of sexual desire, and an inability to care about anything. Is it really that much of a problem that I'm just not that interested in food anymore? In the past, I've given up other hobbies because I lost interest. Will this be like knitting and going to author readings: things I used to like to do but became bored with?

Perhaps my desire for all things food-related will return. I hope it does because right now it feels like an odd kind of hole in my life. Or maybe I'll just silently mourn the passing of an avid interest while I look approvingly at my ass in my new skinny jeans.

Voting Is Super Cool!

My eyes get misty every time I slide my ballot into the ballot box. I think I haven't missed a general election since I was eligible to vote for the first time 20 years ago. In the intervening years my political identity has changed. In my first election I voted for "Bush the Father." Yesterday I was thrilled to see "Bush the Son" ushered out of office by a man who will hopefully be the agent of change he proclaims to be.

Yesterday I took my daughter with me to the poll to turn in my and my husband's absentee ballots. Our state is planning to go all absentee for the next election and I wanted to her to see the traditional polling place before it is gone from our region. She was thrilled to drop our ballots in the box and wore her "I Voted" sticker proudly to school.

Voter turn-out seems to indicate that for this historical election, many people agreed that voting is cool. I sincerely hope that people continue to exercise their right/responsibility to vote when the most interesting things on the ballot are transportation funding and county judges.

Didn't mean to wax philosophic. Just wanted to say voting is super cool!

What a Difference the Chemicals Make!

It's been two months since I started the Wellbutrin and it's been a good thing.  I did a bit of the mania thing, which this time was pretty much just getting really jittery and talking very fast.  I didn't even seem to have problems with insomnia this time around.  (Though I do think I completely annoyed my sister who got a bit tired of the "ooh shiny" inability to focus on any one thing for more than 3 seconds.)

And I'm feeling pretty good about life in general right now.  I sleep like a normal person.  Walk the dogs.  Do fun stuff with my kid.  And even do the dishes from time to time.

While I've been on a break from my blog, I've vacationed with my mom and daughter, decided to go back to work part time, figured out that the thing I wanted to go to grad school for is really not what I want to do after all, taken a photography class, cleaned out the garage so my car actually fits in it, and attended my brother's wedding as the mother of the flower girl.

I'm not saying I'm never sad.  In fact I think I may feel sadness stronger now than I did when I was sad all the time.  And I'm certainly not always happy.  But I don't want to sleep all day.  I laugh when I'm happy.  I cry when I think of my aging dog's upcoming last days.  I can make decisions without second guessing myself for a week after.  And I am genuinely happy for the accomplishments of others.