Christmas Zombie

I am one of those sanctimonious souls who constantly bewails the aggressive pre-Halloween marketing of Christmas. 

I'm really kind of a PITA.

I flat out refuse to participate in Black Friday because I find it obnoxious to spend so much time, money and energy on crap no one really needs.

Again, total PITA.

But on the Saturday after Thanksgiving?

I become a Christmas Zombie.

I didn't realize it until I unpacked my groceries a few minutes ago.

I now own:

3 different "Christmas" home fragrances:  Christmas Tree, Cinnamon Sparkle and Candy Cane.

Candy Cane Oreos

Christmas Tree shaped snack cakes to send to school with the boys this week.

Holiday sparkle nail polish

4 "gift sets" of soap, a wash puff and lotion to give to God knows who.  Teachers I guess.  'Cause teachers never get dozens of soaps, lotions and wash puffs every single year. 

A Christmas Cranberry candle.

In my defense, I didn't buy a tree. 

I already have one.

Might put it up tonight. 

What a PITA.

Turkey Chased

Happy Thanksgiving!

I should be cooking and cleaning, but instead I'm trolling Facebook and blogging. 

I did a Turkey Chase this morning.

A Turkey Chase is a cute name for getting up too early on a day off to run 4 miles with 500 people who are faster than me.

Actually, I did not come in last.

Last year, I came in last.  DEAD last.

In 2011 I ran a 5K every single month.

In 2011 I lost a lot of weight.  I got down to 244.  (I know that sounds like a lot, but my highest non-pregnant weight was 298.  That's a lot for a 5'4" woman)

In 2012, I did a 10 K in January, a 5K in the summer and the Turkey Chase today.

Know what? 

If I want to be good at running I need to do more of it.

It's not that I didn't work out this year.  Gabe kicks my ass almost every day.

I kept the weight off.  Well, I put some back on. . .then lost some. . .then added some. . then lost some more, but I just weighed in at 243.

Yeay!  I lost a pound.  This year.

I also worked full time, took a full load at school and was a first-time Scout mom.  I didn't blog much tho.

What I am saying is, I am not beating myself up for not running a lot this year. 

I'm just going to plan to run a lot more next year.

One 5K every month.

November's will be the Turkey Trot. 

I might come in last.

Turkey Trot 2011.  Notice how no one is running BEHIND me.
 

Identity Crisis

Once upon a time I was a blogger.

I had a domain name.

I had followers.  And commenters.  I even got spammed.

I started the blog to talk about why being fat isn't the worst thing in the world.  I wanted to share with the world that being fat has advantages. 

It does.

I found that being fat gave me presence.  And presence gave me courage.  Courage to speak out against bullying, prejudice and hatred.

Size awareness is important to me.  I will continue to write about it often.  But it gets a little. . . strident after a while.

Sometimes you just wanna have fun.

So I wrote fun things.  Silly things.  Tacky things. 

Then I became interested in getting fit, so I wrote about the funny and embarassing and triumphant things that happen to a fat girl who works out. 

I loved writing.

I loved reading the comments and hearing from people that they liked my writing.  I loved the attagirls and the affirmations.  I loved the blog friends I made along the way.

And then. . .

I guess I forgot to pay someone.

My domain name, www.giftoffat.com, suddenly stopped directing to my blog. 

WTF?

Somewhere, somehow, I pointed the domain to a host or somthing and agreed to pay a $10 hosting fee.   When it was time to re-up, my card had expired.  SInce their contact e-mail was one I check every 3 years or so, the message to update the payment expired.  Oops.

Can I find all my user names and passwords?

Uh.  No.

Every time I think I have it handled, Go Daddy says "it may take up to 3 days to respond".  Dude -- in 3 days I'm gonna be doing something else. 

So fuckit.  I'm done.  I need to move on. 

I need to get a new domain name. 

So I'm thinking of giftsoffat.com or thegiftoffat.com.  

Whaddya think?