Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Dukan Diet: Depriving Myself of All My Most Favorite Things in the Name of Vanity (and Health, Sort Of)

Okay, get ready to judge away because I have succumbed to the bridal black hole that is dieting. I mean, yeh I definitely have some pounds to lose (stupid "honeymoon weight" ... and booze) but I think if it weren't for the wedding and the peer pressure from Fiance, I would definitely not be doing this.

As for what "this" is: The Dukan Diet. The chef at my place of work has lost over THIRTY-FIVE pounds. He lost most of it in the first two months and has managed to keep it off for four more. His wife has lost TWENTY EIGHT and managed to maintain that weight as well. Granted they both had a little more to lose than Fiance and myself, and I'm not looking to get back to my dancer weight or anything, but damn you can't deny the results are spectacular.

Further, this diet does not require me to count calories. Or weigh my food. I have no patience for that bullshit. What it does not allow me (at least for the time being) is fruits, vegetables, dairy, booze, carbs or really any of the things that make life worth living.

Please don't look at the numbers, the amount of weight I've gained in the past three years is frankly horrifying, but in the interest of full disclosure I should reach my goal weight by the end of July ... If I don't go totally insane and accidentally choke to death during a cheese binge ... 

Today is Day 1 of the so-called "Attack Phase" during which you can eat as much as you want ... from a very limited list of items that essentially can be summed up as: lean meat. Do you know what I don't usually eat? Lean meat. Chicken breasts? Blech. Fiance and I are doing 4 more days of this and then moving on to alternating days of pure protein with days of pure protein and vegetables.

Those of you who know me know that being hungry makes me bitchy. And while I'm not actually "hungry" exactly, I DON'T WANT ANY MORE DAMN TURKEY BREAST SANDWICH MEAT. Thats what I had for lunch ... and snack ... and for breakfast I had eggs. Dinner was actually okay, but let me tell you, non-fat plain or greek yogurt is no replacement for good old fashioned butter ... or heavy cream ... or cheese. Oh god I miss cheese.

Now you may be thinking, Mare, why are you writing about dieting on your wedding blog? Well, I am writing about this particular diet on my blog because, like wedding planning, I blame Fiance for this current situation. I know that when I look at the scale in the week and have (allegedly) lost 4 - 7 lbs that I will be motivated and be like "No cheese, I do not miss you. Get away from me you are an abomination"   - HA! That will never happen. But if you know me you also know that I love love love love LOVE immediate gratification. And as far as weight loss goes this is pretty quick.  So we'll see. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't but it would be nice not to have to ask the photographer to photoshop out my arm flab and whittle my waist in every wedding photo ... so there's that at least.

Okay, again in the interest of full disclosure: I cheated a little. There's supposed to be no alcohol. But you cannot take away my cheese, carbs AND booze. I only had one drink though. Vodka and diet tonic ... I miss wine :(

Sunday, May 29, 2011

One Ring to Rule Them All ...

That was a Lord of the Rings reference. Lame - I've been with Fiance too long.

Anyway, the point of this very short post is to show you my wedding ring! Yeh, I put it on - which I'm told  is bad luck, but whatever man. It came in the mail and I tore through the packaging like a kid on Christmas and you better believe that I ripped that sucker from the box and slid it on my hot little hand.

Then I made this face, and documented it for all the world (or just my 8 blog readers) to see.

I'm so photogenic.

Anyway, I love it because it is the coordinating band to my engagement ring ... and spending time going from jewelry store to jewelry store looking for something that would work was taking too long. So we sucked it up and ordered the matching band. 

But - it's a half size too big. Womp Womp So we have to return it and exchange it for a size five. Because I have small fingers, apparently. 



Sunday, May 15, 2011

"I don't get your wedding ..."

Or: Tales of mothers and wedding planning

Popular culture would have you believe that the bride's mother will take over the wedding planning and have the "wedding she never had" and all in all be an overbearing bitch. As it turns out, my mother is freakishly normal. Not normal in the sense of "lines up with societal norms" but normal like, for serious, psychologically normal when it comes to wedding planning. She's awesome. She's down for whatever I want and is supportive of basically any idea I throw her way - admittedly sometimes annoying because I'm trying to get an honest opinion and "Whatever you want, Mare, it's your wedding" doesn't really count as an opinion.

Maybe it's the fact that she's been married more than once and has therefore gotten wedding planning out of her system (although I don't think it was ever really her bag) but I have to say I love that woman for making my life easier. I was genuinely worried about calling our parents and saying "Hey, you know those invites? Right, we aren't using [our parents] names on them" because we are paying for the majority of our wedding on our own. My mother, father and stepfather really had no opinion on the matter, and in fact seemed to be of the opinion that "OMG that's too many names and also we aren't paying for it so rock on and do what you want" ... I am a very big fan of that opinion.

In the throes of wedding planning I have come to the realization that popular culture is wrong. It's not the bride's mom - it's the groom's. Fiance's mother is no different. When she saw the suits we had picked out for the groomsmen (and fathers) she told Fiance that she didn't "get" our wedding. Because it seemed so "casual" and "not special" and why weren't we using tuxes etc etc etc ... Here's what I don't "get" - what exactly is there to "get" or understand about a wedding anyway? I think the whole damn point is that we are getting married. You know, that whole legal and religious joining of our lives before our friends and families? I thought that was the point ... not the lack of crappy polyester rented tuxes that cost $200 to use for a couple days.




I've been lead to believe by other brides that groom's mothers often get a case of the crazies during the wedding planning ESPECIALLY when the groom's mother doesn't have a daughter. I think it's that whole "leaving and cleaving" thing. Somewhere in the bible (what, don't expect me to know this shit just because Step-dad is a Priest. I read the bible, I didn't memorize it) it says that in marriage a man should LEAVE his mother and CLEAVE to his wife. I find this to be imperative. In getting married you form a new little family. In the case of complicated family situations (ahem, most family situations) this can be hard. I am all for forming a new family and have thought of myself and Fiance as such since we got engaged. Apparently for some parents it is harder to let go (and let God - or whatever) than it is for others. The fact that I resent these opinions does not mean that I don't appreciate all the financial (and floral) input from the FMIL. But getting help, financial and otherwise, is a slippery slope into having to listen to every single stupid opinion. I said listening to them - not utilizing them. Jeez.

Here's the thing - I am not going to stress myself out to have the wedding that everyone else expects. I want to get married. That's the point. The bonus parts of that are having my friends and family out to our home for a (hopefully) super fun party. It won't be in a hotel ballroom or on an antebellum plantation and there won't be overly priced and poorly fitted tuxes. But there will be so much love (and booze and delicious food) and there will be that whole thing about joining my life to Fiance's forever and ever and eternity and crap like that. But in the end - I will be married and we will be happy and drunk and full and surrounding with friends. Cranky-pants mother-in-laws can keep their opinions to themselves .. or just expect for them to be ignored.