So. Its no secret I've gained weight. I worked so hard to lose it, and have gained a buttload back. originally my first priority was to deal with my depression, but that's dealt with. So I feel like I can focus on my weight loss again.
This week I made a resolution. I decided no chocolate for a week. And I did exceptionally well. Wed and thurs I had a slip up, a total of 20 chocolate bullets. Not too bad I think. And today, after the resolution had ended... No chocolate at all. Little resolutions work. So, I resolve the following.
I will train at least there times a week. If, for some reason, I cannot do three times a week, I will do FOUR times a week the next week to maker up for it.
I will have 4 morning teas at work that consist of yoghurt and berries, ricotta cookie, or museli slice. I can have a cafe coffee if I need one, but preference for premium instant. I get one free morning tea a month.
Visits to the ice creamery near work... Limited to once a month.
I will have at least one lunch our diner per day that is low carb.
No chocolate at home, but no stressing about if I have it at work either.
Eat outs are to be one per week. Two at the utter max. This is more for financial reasons, but works here too.
Friday, October 01, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Birdies
Ooh. Lookit. Blogging from my phone.
So. This post is for Ute. I'm pretty sure I've blogged it before, but I feel the need to share it again.
My Dad used to breed budgies for show. He must have had thousands of them over the years. I remember her had two side by side avairies at one stage. Each about 20 or 30m long. One for boys, one for girls. Plus his breeding room. I'm soo used to those little birds. Anyway. He bred all types over the years. Blue, green, grey, yellow, ones with funky hairstyles. In the later years he bred yellow ones. I thought they were boring, but he liked them.
This story is about a little white one he had, when I was about 10. He had a mate who swore black and blue, that If you fed a bird exclusively on beetroot leaves, it would turn red. So he got the beaut idea that if you take a white budgie, you can spray it with red food dye, and get a red bird. So that's what he did. Took a lovely little light grey bird, mixed up a spay bottle of red food colouring, and spray painted the bird. Dried poor birdie, then applied another coat. Repeat until bottle empty.
The next night he took pinkie to the bird show. Everyone there was in on the joke. And it went down rather well.
We had pinkie for about a year after that. Her colour faded over about a month. Her wing tips were the last to go. One night there was a massive wind storm, and the lock on dads aviary came undone. He lost all of his birds from that year, with the exception of one runty little grey thing.
Shame too.he had one bird with excellent potential.
***
Aggro was a bird dad gave to his mum. He was white. The bird. Although dad was white too. Nan wanted one she could teach to talk. Originally, aggro was named kimba, for the white lion. But we found that he was really a she. And true to form, she was aggressive. Hence the name. Shortly after nan and grandpa moved down to live with us, dad re acquired aggro to use as a breeder. and she was a fantastic mum too.
***
Guts was mums bird. He was a mop. A genetic deformity that causes extremely long feathers, and a short life span. he was a brilliant dark blue. Because of his condition, his mother decided to end his life. Which, according to nature, is what is to be done. She should spend her time raising young that would survive, right?
Dad interrupted her. And managed to save the poor bugger. her was a bloody mess. Literally. He had half his scalp chewed off and suffered brain damage. My dad, being the softie that he is, child not being himself to kill the poor fighter. So he saved his life instead. Kept him in a heat box, and hand fed him.
Guts was aptly named. He was always hungry. And he'd eat anything that would fit in his beak. He used to sit on mums shoulder and nibble her ears. He'd get out and run around the floor, shitting everywhere. God he was cheeky. On top of having thee mop defect, as a result of his injury he always had one foot splayed out behind him, and he dragged the wing on the same side.
After a few months, dad took him out to the aviary. We'd go down every afternoon to pay with guts, and another mop that ran around the floor with him. We'd pick him up and carry him on our shoulders. Occasionally, he'd come up and spend the night at the house, nibbling mums ears.
I remember the day he died. I remember mum holding him in her outstretched hand, sobbing. She had always helped dad look after the birds, but guts was the only one she'd ever attached to.
So. This post is for Ute. I'm pretty sure I've blogged it before, but I feel the need to share it again.
My Dad used to breed budgies for show. He must have had thousands of them over the years. I remember her had two side by side avairies at one stage. Each about 20 or 30m long. One for boys, one for girls. Plus his breeding room. I'm soo used to those little birds. Anyway. He bred all types over the years. Blue, green, grey, yellow, ones with funky hairstyles. In the later years he bred yellow ones. I thought they were boring, but he liked them.
This story is about a little white one he had, when I was about 10. He had a mate who swore black and blue, that If you fed a bird exclusively on beetroot leaves, it would turn red. So he got the beaut idea that if you take a white budgie, you can spray it with red food dye, and get a red bird. So that's what he did. Took a lovely little light grey bird, mixed up a spay bottle of red food colouring, and spray painted the bird. Dried poor birdie, then applied another coat. Repeat until bottle empty.
The next night he took pinkie to the bird show. Everyone there was in on the joke. And it went down rather well.
We had pinkie for about a year after that. Her colour faded over about a month. Her wing tips were the last to go. One night there was a massive wind storm, and the lock on dads aviary came undone. He lost all of his birds from that year, with the exception of one runty little grey thing.
Shame too.he had one bird with excellent potential.
***
Aggro was a bird dad gave to his mum. He was white. The bird. Although dad was white too. Nan wanted one she could teach to talk. Originally, aggro was named kimba, for the white lion. But we found that he was really a she. And true to form, she was aggressive. Hence the name. Shortly after nan and grandpa moved down to live with us, dad re acquired aggro to use as a breeder. and she was a fantastic mum too.
***
Guts was mums bird. He was a mop. A genetic deformity that causes extremely long feathers, and a short life span. he was a brilliant dark blue. Because of his condition, his mother decided to end his life. Which, according to nature, is what is to be done. She should spend her time raising young that would survive, right?
Dad interrupted her. And managed to save the poor bugger. her was a bloody mess. Literally. He had half his scalp chewed off and suffered brain damage. My dad, being the softie that he is, child not being himself to kill the poor fighter. So he saved his life instead. Kept him in a heat box, and hand fed him.
Guts was aptly named. He was always hungry. And he'd eat anything that would fit in his beak. He used to sit on mums shoulder and nibble her ears. He'd get out and run around the floor, shitting everywhere. God he was cheeky. On top of having thee mop defect, as a result of his injury he always had one foot splayed out behind him, and he dragged the wing on the same side.
After a few months, dad took him out to the aviary. We'd go down every afternoon to pay with guts, and another mop that ran around the floor with him. We'd pick him up and carry him on our shoulders. Occasionally, he'd come up and spend the night at the house, nibbling mums ears.
I remember the day he died. I remember mum holding him in her outstretched hand, sobbing. She had always helped dad look after the birds, but guts was the only one she'd ever attached to.
Monday, August 02, 2010
Jeebus H Christ on a pogo stick
Here is a list of the people who have pissed me off today.
- The coworkerS that I caught playing with their phones in a meeting today. Yes, multiples. Sitting side by side. I told one to quit it, and he did. Later, when I told the girl next to him to quit it, he defended her and said it didn't matter. Like hell it fucking doesn't. We're not here to fucking gasbag. I wanna sort shit out and go the fuck home. You having to ask for more info about something that has been clearly explained because you didn't pay attention is not helping the situation.
- The 'friend', IRL, who defriended me on facebook. No big drama. I mean, its just facebook. But don't tell me you quite facebook altogether when you've just defriended me and changed your name so that you can't be found.
- The friend who has stood me up for breakfasts, lunches and now dinners. Yeppers. For the birthday bonanza she said she'd be there. Then she wasn't. She has a history of not turning up because she can't be bothered. Not just for me, but for dates etc. She doesn't have a phone, so she can't be contacted when she is a no show. Apparently her mum was sick. On her facebook she has made plans with someone else. She still hasn't apologised. Do these people think I'm fucking stupid?
- The fuckwit moron who utilises our services at work. Passive aggressive bitch makes our lives difficult. Someone made a mistake. I don't know if it was us or her. But she is blaming us for fucking up the next month's worth of her work. From the wording of the email (that she sent straight to the director of the facility) it would seem that she can't find the instructions that she gave us. I know that those instructions would have been kept my my boss. Lets for one moment ignore ALL the mistakes she's made that have made our lives more difficult...
- All of the extra breeding (and killing) we've had to do because she couldn't get her genotypes right.
- All of the extra work we had to do looking after animals they didn't want. Then having to kill them, because they didn't tell us they didn't want them.
- All of the extra samples we had to take because they couldn't get their genotypes right
- The way they give us cull lists when they're massive, so it takes an hour to do, and makes us want to vomit afterwards.
- The fact that she CONTINUALLY fucks up her genotypes, and still doesn't know how to do one gene properly. We have done a lot of work to get dirty animals clean, and we don't even know if they're the type they want. So she's wasted someone else's very hard, emotionally rending work. Not only that, we have got a large colony still breeding in special conditions because we don't know if the clean animals are what they want. And when its time for that colony to go, its going to be exceptionally tough on ME. There will be vomiting and possibly self mutilation after that one.
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Birthday Bonanza
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