Some like it old

My computer is terminally ill, once again...I think. My brother (I think I used to refer to him as "Weird Kid" here) would call it "a piece," I'm sure. By no means am I a computer whiz but it seems to be doing the same thing it did the last time...which in my opinion was not that very long ago. If I have to buy another power supply and that thing with un"popped" capacitors then I may as well junk this old monstrosity and buy myself a new computer. *sigh* An expense I really do not need right now.

But everyone loves having new things. I am definitely not an exception. With my (exciting) progress in weight-loss-land I am itching to buy myself some new clothes. However, common sense and my mother tell me to wait a while and not go buck-wild on a wardrobe overhaul. At the very least I need new bottoms. Belts, accessories I have never been a fan of functionally, have become my friend. But they can only do so much. On a recent outing with the big bois I had to cinch up my urban shorts so much I winced at the possibility that, by some freak accident, someone would see my shirt lift up and the whole world would see how much fabric I had bunched around my waist. Thank goodness for the currently trendy (though questionable and hideous) pregnancy-style tops! You could hide a midget under there!

On the flip-side, I do not want to sound like a Jenny-Craig-esque spokesperson but it is amazing how much room I have in my old pants. So much that I *almost* want to tsk at myself in disgust that I ever got so big in the first place. But really, back when I fit into those clothes, I didn't feel so bad about myself. I guess it is all relative. Though if anyone were to ask me I would have to say I do not miss the old me...I'll take the "new" me anyday.

So this past long weekend was somewhat a treat to myself. While killing time with the big bois at the casino before we continued on with Mr J's birthday plans I sat down at a nickel slot machine for 5 minutes, slipped in my 20 dollar "entertainment fee" and cashed out with almost 300 bucks! Ka-ching ka-ching! It was like Las Vegas ALL OVER AGAIN. I knew there was better ways to use that 300 bucks but, what the hey, I bought myself some new clothes. I always use to scoff at those who were obsessed over the number on the tag of their clothes, but who am I kidding, it was a thrill to buy clothes with smaller numbers on them!

Ok, enough about Le and her self-obsession! Ok, maybe not. This is MY blog, after all.

I know this is completely jumping the gun but I think I may have found a guy that can keep up with me. A salsa fan, a hip-hop fan...well, a dancing fan in general. Great taste in music, movies, clothes, cars; unfortunately it is starting to sound a little shallow at this point but trust me. All the important elements are there. He's bright, dedicated to his post-secondary ambitions (not just the bare minimum degree for this guy!), incredibly sweet and charming. The guy has it all. I would be lucky to nab a guy like him, but I would even love to just be a friend of his. A girl like me definitely deserves to hang with great people like him. My days of needing a dance partner could be at a stop-search!

Oh, and if Flag-girl and/or her friend, V, are reading this: the new guy is not from around here. It only feeds into our theory about local guys lacking social skills and the like. Sad but true.

On the flip-side, why do I still miss "my" Aidan?! Good grief, a girl is never satisfied.

Got to get you into my life, into my life

A tall, dark, and handsome man (cliche, huh?) has been haunting my dreams.

Ok, so it has only been two dreams. Two dreams over two months. But it appears to me that it is becoming a mini-series of sorts. Or at least I hope it is. I wouldn't mind. :P

In the first dream he introduced himself to me while we were sitting in a classroom. Although I wish that there were potential for deja vu here I have not attended any classes in almost 6 years. Mind you with Civic heading back to university our group has had several discussions as to whether the rest of us have felt like going back to school. And if so, what would we take the next time around? For a lack of anything better coming to mind I always choose accounting. I guess I still think that I have/had the potential for becoming a boring bean-counter. I'm not sure if Mr Dark-and-Yummy and I meet in an accounting class; maybe it's my subconscious' hokey way of trying to tempt me back into school.

In the second dream, he surprises me at a carnival much like the Stampede. Except this carnival was set on my beloved 17th Avenue to commemorate the opening of the new C-Train station. And at this carnival I was playing a game that involved shooting, basketball, and Madison Square Garden. My "team" was all full so the carnie sat me off to one side as the basketball part of the game got underway.

Next thing I know an arm slinks its way around my waist and he tells me "maybe I will meet you there."

Meet me where?! Augh!

And that's the ONLY coherent thing I can remember him saying in either dream. In dream #2 we just lounged there on the carnival bench (can you even lounge on those things?!) cuddling and talking about what, I wish I knew. It was like he was on mute, I could hear the carnival all around me but I couldn't hear him at all. But I remember feeling wonderful and at ease just lazing there with him. He was Eastern European, would be my guess. A little scruffy but short, styled hair. He reminded me a bit of Maksim Chmerkovskiy. If I could nab myself my very own Maks I would not be complaining at all!

"...the stars all aligned and thus a 'fitter' Leah was born"

It was going to happen sooner or later.

There was a time in my life when I was anti-diet. I was all for exercise; no problems with that. But tell me I am DENIED food and I will eat it right in front of you just to be defiant. What a miserable life it would be if I could not drink when I wanted, eat what I wanted, indulge how I wanted...I'm sure you catch my drift.

A few years back I got to know an uber sweet guy who turned out to be an Atkins-diet success story. He showed me a picture of him back in high school which was a great lot different to the guy who I met in person. I was incredibly impressed and admired his insane dedication, but there was no way you could ever get me to give up my carbs. NO. WAY.

Unfortunately, he has also become a cautionary tale of an example. I did not get to see him often but when I did he would be bigger than he was the time before. And the time before that. And the time before that. I have not seen him lately -- and I hope that he has not gone back to his old high school ways -- but I felt sad that he was slipping back into old routines. Not sure why I felt so bad...it wasn't MY body...but it sure was a shame to see all his hard work drift away.

As for me the workouts just were not getting me the results I was hoping for. I was feeling better, but the inches and pounds were not budging at all. It got to a point where I started making excuses not to go; after all, there was no real encouragement keeping me on track.

Then I started to slide down that same slope. I was not feeling all that great anymore...my self-image was unsatisfactory (and this was coming from a girl who usually LOVES herself to bits). I knew I should get back into the gym but the excuses kept on coming and I just did not feel like forcing myself into the gym.

Luckily, Weird Kid started going to a gym close to home so that got me into quasi-regular workouts with no excuse to skip out.

Later still, I switched offices and learned of how my manager used to be a lot heavier and how she went (and apparently succeeded) on the South Beach Diet. After hearing a bit about the basics of the diet I found myself actually contemplating a diet. No lie! A week later I was at my computer ordering the book online.

The more I read the book the more I convinced myself that this was a diet I could actually live with. Please don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to preach about the wonders of the South Beach Diet, it just became something that would work for me.

As added motivation I have caught a few episodes of the Biggest Loser: Couples. (Mom loves those reality shows!) I became emotionally bonded to one of the characters/contestants. She weighed the same as me at the beginning (edit: actually, after looking at the website she actually started out heavier than me -- but now she is lighter than me so that is still inspiring) and she has since lost so much. Whenever I catch the show I am impressed by her progress and motivated to keep on keeping on. Her arms are looking great! In my extreme vanity I consider myself just as pretty as her and I am convinced that I will only become prettier as the weight fades away...much like her.

On a side note: Mom was shocked when I admitted to how much I weigh. To my credit I do not think anyone could ever guess how much I weighed (a few friends whom I have worked out with in the past knew my real weight, but that's about it) and even when I first started tuning into Biggest Loser I could not believe the size of some of the contestants. They did not weigh much more than me but in my opinion they looked so much worse off. I seriously had to consider whether I had an over-inflated (no pun intended) opinion of how my own body actually looked. Were others seeing me as big as the women I was seeing on the show?

My mom and others have assured me that I have never looked like "them." Like I said, mom was amazed at how much I weighed. It still surprises me, however, how people who weigh the same can look so different from one another. When I would see diet commercials I felt they "padded" the numbers to make the actors and actresses seem a lot heavier than they actually were. After all, how would someone who is 120 pounds actually know what a 220 pound person is supposed to look like?

Back to what I was saying: Phase 1 (the first two, and strictest, weeks of the diet) were a bit hard. I'm not going to lie. I remember that first Friday trying to figure out something Daisy and I could do that would not ruin my diet or tempt me away from it. It seemed like there was NOTHING we could do! I felt so boring.

Moreover, I was not experiencing the speedy weight loss that the book's testimonials promoted. I was expecting that, though. There is always fine print. Just like those diet pills at Wal-Mart and what have you, if you look closely at the ads you will see the tiny writing at the bottom: "actual results may vary."

Those two weeks were only difficult on the weekends, the time I spent out and about with friends. Otherwise I really did not have a problem with the diet. Phase 2 started and the diet became even easier to live out. And even though I was not turbo-shedding the weight it was more than I could have ever hoped for compared to my old days at the gym.

It has been a month and a half and, I just have to share, I have lost 14 pounds so far! I love trying on new clothes and seeing how they flatter my body even better than in the past. My legs (my favorite part of me) have not been this firm since high school or even junior high. Same goes for my arms! I love going to the gym so I can push myself further and do my weigh-ins. It is truly exciting, and I do not feel like I have sacrificed much at all with regards to the foods I enjoy. I thought I would miss rice terribly. We are Asian, I used to have rice at least once a day. Eating with the family and watching them eat rice...I thought that would be extremely hard. But I find that I have not missed it much at all. With the little tweaks here and there that the diet has taught me I can easily swap out the cravings I used to have (I can recognize those cravings now) with a suitable just-as-tasty alternative.

Now I am looking at the target I set for myself and it does not feel like it's going to be a marathon effort to achieve my goal. If things remain steady there is no reason why I should not reach my goal by the summer. But what is to stop me there? I am not feeling restricted at all by my diet and my workouts have become a part of my weekly life rather than a chore. If I aim big and work hard I do not see anything stopping me from losing even more weight than I "signed up" for. It is an incredible rush.

It feels even better with all the encouragement I am receiving from my family and friends. Every compliment they pay me -- attention-whore that I am -- only pushes me that much harder. And if ever anyone told me they weren't seeing any results in me I think that would only drive me even more! (Not that anyone has told me that...yet.) I get giddy when my pants are practically falling off -- though I admit I do get sad when they are clothes that I loved -- and it is so fun trying on sizes that I have not bothered trying on in years...and then finding that they look great on me once again. Win-win-win for me!

Packrat love

- a play on Muskrat Love. Whatever; I'm a dork.
I decided recently to organize my purses. If you have known me for some time you ought to know I have a bazillion purses. I thought all women were like me. Apparently not, none of them have as many purses as me, for sure. Most of my friends only have maybe 5 or 10! It boggles my mind!

Re-organizing my purses is a massive endeavor consisting of clearing them all out of my handbag closet, emptying them out, and rearranging them in some sort of system that makes sense (at the time). Unfortunately, my handbag closet cannot hold all of my handbags so now my collection is split amongst my two closets. This would be why I forget I own such-and-such a bag for years on end until I unearth it once again during one of my "reorgs."

Emptying them out always takes the longest. I pore over every receipt as they spell out their own special page in my life of where I went, when, and what I bought. I peruse over little notes and reminders I left myself at the time. I flip through business cards of mr or ms so-and-so and wonder why I ever got their business cards in the first place.

Like the business card (actually, I found two! I guess he was really big on networking "through" me) of a guy I once knew who I don't really care to contact anymore...and yet I cannot seem to toss the card(s) in the garbage.

Then there is the business card of a barbecue planner/caterer. Why do I have this one??? Clearly I must have met him somewhere? Was he one of those random dates I had back in the day? Sooooo bizarre.

I came across my Rogers and Blockbuster membership cards. Does anyone rent movies anymore?

The best "treasure" I found: 6 unopened boxes of Reese's Pieces -- all in different purses. Yes, I love Reese's Pieces, but going through all my belongings it is fairly evident that I am satisfied with just buying them. No need to eat them! The things I learn about myself!

It's probably not a wise idea to eat them now.

Necesitamos mas amigos qui son salseros y salseras.

Eeee, I hope my Spanish is still coherent.

This past weekend was the very first Calgary International Salsa Congress; a labor of love for our favorite dance studio and its instructors. T-Girl and I would have been remiss to skip on the event.

Friday night was the pre-congress party held in the ballroom at the Hyatt downtown. I have not gone dancing in months so seeing all the fantastic dancing had me quite intimidated at first. I knew I would be able to hold my own if only I could find a partner who could lead. Unfortunately, the one partner I ended up getting -- a friend of T-Girl's who must have felt bad for me standing solo -- could not keep the beat. I did my best to be gracious and follow his lead and ignore the music, but it just killed the moment for me. My fave partner who is also a TA at the studio was busy getting ready for his performance so no luck there. We'll call him Salsa Boy. When I get the chance to dance with him I feel like the most amazing salsera in the room because I know what I am doing and I am with someone who know what he is doing. It's enough to cause a gal to develop a little salsa crush, 'tis. Salsa Boy gave a fantastic show with his group. Unfortunately, with not much luck in the dance partner department and with Civic's stomach growling we soon bailed after the performances in search of food. It was just as well. I was starting to feel like the little wallflower in junior high.

Saturday night was one of the big shows being held at the Telus Convention Centre. More amazing dancing yet again! Sadly, T-Girl and I were even worse off for partners. More to the point I should say that I was worse off for partners. T-Girl is an incredibly sweet girl who seems to encourage guys from all walks to approach her. I, as you know, can be a veritable ice queen depending on whether the guy in question is even worth a minute of conversation. It was just as well that her partner this evening didn't try including me on the dance floor. He gave me the creeps.

Creepy and pansy guys aside, I could not help but wonder if T-Girl and I would ever break into the social circle that is the Calgary salsa scene. Every salsa event we attend has the same people there. They all seem to know one another really well and that helps them all look amazing on the floor since they know one another's cues and styles. What I would give to have friends like them with whom I could hone my skills, learn, grow, and burn up the night! But even though we recognize them it is often really intimidating to break the ice amongst their groups. However, it would be so fantastic to have a steady group of people to dance with. People we know and who love the latin scene as much as we do. I'm not looking for a romantic partner I just want a dance partner.

Hot or not

The Hotness is terminally ill.

The Hotness being my favorite cell phone.

I jumped on the chance to own The Hotness as soon as she was released in Canada. With all the research I did in my cell phone forums and such it was clear to me that I was destined to own a Sony Ericsson Z520a. We have had a wonderful life together and she has travelled with me to many lands. On my recent trip to the Philippines I bought a companion phone -- a Sony Ericsson Z610i which I christened Bebot -- to take some of the workload off of The Hotness.

Don't get me wrong, Bebot is shiny, sleek, and sexy. I love whipping her out whenever I see lemming RAZR owners out on the street. But even with her hot exterior, her bells and whistles just cannot hold a candle to how The Hotness and I were a match made for the ages.

Never wanting to be without her for a minute I kept putting off sending her away for a small software glitch, a minor inconvenience, until my extended warranty was (so I thought) about to expire.

Turns out I still had a year on my warranty, no biggie. What hurts me is that my beloved techie boys whom I trusted to take care of my cell phones for years, have defiled my most favorite phone of all. I have no way of proving it but I swear they hurt my phone. They claim there is water damage in The Hotness, making her warranty void and her "glitches" irreparable. She works for now -- save for some static here and there -- but "corrosion spreads."

I feel so lost knowing my favorite gadget is dying a slow death. At some point before I am ready we will have to part ways. I feel betrayed by my "favorite" techie boys. If only I could make a wish to a cell phone fairy somewhere out there. There is NO WAY I would ever let The Hotness get wet. They corrupted her somehow while she was in their care. Now both of us are paying the price.

All Good Boys Deserve Fudge. Good Boys Deserve Fudge Always

One thing definitely hasn't changed in my blogging style: I always want to start my posts with some kind of musical reference.

Another social network has basically taken over my life on the internet. I'm sure there are quite a few of you out there who can easily guess what I am talking about. It is just too convenient for a little snoopy voyeur like myself. It is like the Cliff's Notes of someone's life rather than having to click and read every single blog post. In a minute you can find out where your old high school friend is working now, what their academic achievements have been, whether or not they are seeing someone at the moment or if they have gone in a domestic way and did the whole married-with-2.5-kids thing. They are not kidding when they say this network is like an addiction. I find myself looking up people from my past, people who I don't really care much about, just to see who's doing what and how. We have all become subjects of our own personal gossip rag.

One friend recently "added" a girl we used to hang out with in high school. Naturally, I pounced on the chance to see what she has been up to (but heaven forbid I "add" this girl myself!) In seconds I can see that she has not changed much at all and in fact she is engaged. I'm not surprised; she was the type who was bent on finding that "right guy;" much like one would work on their career ambitions.

Note: dating compared to a job hunt/career search is a topic that has come up lately. More on that another time.

Finding out more about this girl and how much (little) has changed also made me realize how little I have changed in all these years.

My reaction to the pictures of her fiance? "She's getting what she deserves."

That's not me being impressed or proud of this girl, folks. That's me being all catty...claws out...rawr.

I know...I know...I know that there is some unspoken rule about couples in general and how they are usually par with one another in appearance. You are not going to find Jennifer Aniston with Carrot Top, for instance. But there are always the exceptions. Those which one friend used to explain as guys/girls who shoot for the moon because they do not have anything to lose...and that is when you see Angelina Jolie types strolling and canoodling with Gilbert Gottfried types.

I am not saying that the Gilbert Gottfrieds of the world do not deserve Angelina Jolies. But somewhere in there, I swear...I swear to you there must be at least a small element of self-esteem issues in the mix.

Another friend of mine has been seeing a Gilbert Gottfried (I'm going to shorten this up to GGs from now). She has been seeing GG for a loooong time. I can't wrap my head around it. Everything about this guy irritates me from the moment he opens his mouth and I have to listen to his annoying voice. Her current credo: "nice stands for something."

My response to that? NICE IS THE MINIMUM! Of course a significant other would have to be "nice." Why would one date a jerk? Even if he or she is hot, noone puts up with them if they are a jerk. At least they shouldn't.

By the way, though this should be inherent knowledge, when trying to set up friends on a blind date -- or maybe you yourself are putting together a (eek) personal ad -- NEVER use the word "nice" to describe them/yourself. As I've said, "nice" is the minimum. If you ask me, "nice" always comes with a "but." A read-between-the-lines "but." ("You'll love him! He is such a nice guy!" Translation: Have some compassion and give this runt of the litter a chance! So what if he is cross-eyed.) Nice is such a generic word. A spring day is nice, getting a little extra whip cream on your coffee is nice. If you want to "sell" someone on a potential love interest tell them he or she is sweet, thoughtful, considerate... There are so many words out there that are leagues better than nice.

Ok, as I was saying, nice is the minimum. If you ask her what else she likes about this guy she ends up stumped for a response. I am concerned she has settled (oh dread!) for the minimum.

And this, my friends, is where my whole title about deserving things comes into play.

Of course GG could not be happier. He won! He gets my friend. She's great, stylish, savvy, all the things that he isn't. He scored big. You can't convince me, could never convince me, that he deserves a girl as wonderful as my pal.

But what saddens me is her side of the story. Is this all she thinks she is worth? Don't get me wrong; I don't want her to end up with some good-looking guy who likes to throw her around a la Ike Turner. Couldn't she have more patience and wait for a wonderful guy? One whom she cannot stop raving about because she actually KNOWS what she likes and loves about him? I tell you, this future guy will be more than "nice" in her description.

Please don't misunderstand me, I do not want you to think that this is some shallow rant all about appearances. This is just the best way I can explain things at the moment.

Those who know the type of guy I like physically would have been surprised by the guy I chose, or would have chosen. Sadly, he did not choose me. Truth be told for once (or one of the few times I guess I should say) I have been hurt by a guy whom I suppose decided he deserved someone better than me. I'm not dogging myself. Perhaps I should have worded that last sentence as "better for him."

But if anyone asked me what I saw in him I would have loads to say. Loads! He was uber bright, well-read, incredibly worldly when it came to everything around him, adorably thoughtful... god, I could go on but it would just make me feel even more sad thinking about it all again.

Even with the way he looks now, which was not the way he looked when I first met him, I would still think he is "totally boss." :P I'm a little sad that all his hard work has fallen by the wayside but if he is happy in his state then that's all one could ask for. Heaven knows he had more discipline than me in that respect and I'VE always been happy with my state of appearance. Besides, I can't express my concern for his health at this point...there is that fear that he would misinterpret my comments as a catty way of trying to hurt him for leaving me behind.

In the end, though, I'm certain I will get what I deserve. And he will be fantastically more than nice.