Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

Sixty Three Pounds Gone Forever (Cross My Fingers), A Visit With Dr. Liu, My Neighbor the Vivisector, and Weird Dreams.


I really wanted these paint by number Paris paintings, but I was outbid on a grand scale. I just love the colors and there is something kind of wacky Disney color heightened about them. Darn it. Well, I could have never afforded them, they went for two hundred and seventy dollars. Paint by number, imagine.

Finally, after six long days without any downward movement on the scale, I lost two more pounds, making my total loss a whopping sixty-three pounds! Thank you God!!! Every time I hit a plateau I think I've hit bottom, that this is the end of the ride, that I've blown it somehow by what I have been eating and will never lose another pound. After so many years of watching the scale move upwards it's just so incredibly exciting and unfamiliar to watch the numbers move in the opposite direction. I have totally lost all perspective on portion, I can't tell whether I am eating too much or not, until or unless my stomach tells me so. My Mother asked me to serve her some of this gross looking bell pepper salad the other day and when I did she kept telling me to give her more and more. I thought I was giving her more than enough but each time I'd add more she would say, "Come on now that isn't enough."

For the first time in more than twenty years I weigh less than the man I am with. My clothes fit loosely. I'm not afraid to look at myself in the mirror. I have more energy and then sometimes conversely less energy. I'm cold instead of hot and I don't feel overheated all the time. I'm not afraid of booths in restaurants and I can sit in chairs with arms. There is so much good about this that I could write but I think I'll save it for when I have the time to write a more comprehensive report of what has changed for the better. I'm just so grateful the scale is moving again.

I saw my wonderful surgeon, Dr. Liu, yesterday. He showed me pictures of his beautiful little girl and his pretty wife. He has the daughter I want, a gorgeous little Chinese baby girl. Someday. Right now I have my racist Mother to deal with and beyond that we can't even adopt any children from China because of the SARS epidemic.

I love my doctor and his wonderful staff. They are all so loving and supportive, so positive and kind. Every time I see them I come away feeling so positive and happy about my choice to have had this surgery. It could be because they say so many sweet things to me when they see me. Am I really so different from their other patients that I stand out that much to them? Am I the only person who throws her arms around Dr. Liu and calls him darling? Am I the only person who tries to cheer everyone up and make them feel less insecure about their upcoming surgery or stalled weight loss? Somehow I doubt it.

I talked to everyone about my tingling hands and feet and the itching. Dr. Liu thinks it's as simple as my having dry skin and needing to take vitamins that are not an extended release formula. My platelets are high. My best understanding of this is that when they are low your blood is thinner and when they are higher your blood is thicker and more prone to clotting. Christina, Dr. Liu's GORGEOUS nurse practitioner, who I adore, (I also adore his assistant Gedion, and their nurses and the nutritionist. I'm telling you these people are nice, nice, nice, times ten), told me that it just means I need to exercise more and she's right because I really hadn't been. Dr. Liu took my little notebook, where I write everything about my weight loss journey, and wrote, "Buy a pedometer. Walk ten thousand steps every day!"

Afterwards I went to a movie in Century City. I counted every step I took from the car to the food court, to the movie and back, and I don't think I walked more than a thousand steps all day. Ten thousand? How am I going to do that? I'll just have to find a way, I guess. I bought a burrito and took it with me to the only movie that was playing at that time, Identity. I have this kind of love hate thing going with John Cusack because he was really awful to me at a party once, but I love his work and have been following his career since my old friends Daphne Zuniga and Tim Robbins starred opposite him in The Sure Thing. Oh and I found some really funny pictures of Tim while I was going through my old photos the other day. I think I might reprint them and send them to him someday, if I can work up the courage. I also found some pictures of Maria (Mariska Harguitay) that I should probably send to her. I would love it if people would send old pictures of me or my family to me. Anyway I had three bites of the burrito and was suddenly in so much pain. I sat there thinking I can handle this if I just wait long enough for the food to move it's way on out of my weird little stomach, but then I just couldn't take the pain and thought I might be sick in the theater if I didn't run for the bathroom so I did. Then I threw up in the bathroom thinking, "Please don't let anyone come in here right now?", and I got lucky, no one came in until I was done. The movie was okay. I wasn't expecting much so I wasn't disappointed. Was it really that confusing to people? It made sense to me, but after the lights came up everyone was saying they didn't get it, and my Mom had said the same thing, but then again, well, I'll just leave it at that.

After the movie I went to Bloomingdales to find a present for my housekeeper/assistant/pal Esther. I was also looking for some Floret perfume. I have the cream and every time I open the bottle it reminds me of sunlight, gardenias and jasmine, yum. It's funny how aggressive the salespeople are in the perfume department. I think they know a sucker when they see one because if I so much as let them spritz something on my wrist or stop for a second, I walk out of there two hundred dollars lighter. I wound up buying Esther a cool limited edition bottle of, shoot, I can't think of the name, the bottle is in the shape of a woman's body, like a mannequin... Oh well. I also bought her some earrings and some creams and things at the Body Shop. I am having to be careful with money but since I bought Irma a TV for her birthday I feel it's only fair to spend the same amount on Esther. I'm going to put a check in her card. This birthday thing is really taking me under, from February through September the birthdays just seem to come one right after the other.

Oh yuck my horrible neighbor just pulled up in front of his house. I can see him through the window of my office on the second story of my house. I thought he was gone for good. He must be checking up on his house, the house he just sold. Freak! Jerk! Vivisector! Look I know I'll pay later for having judged him now, but I'm just not loving and forgiving enough to embrace the kind of cold disconnected brutality that it must take to become an animal killing machine.

I never knew this about him until this last week when Irma and I stopped to look through all of the stuff he had left on the curb with the trash. (People are always leaving things out around here. I've done it myself plenty of times when I didn't want something but thought it would be better to give it away than toss it. We've found some really great stuff this way.) Anyway he had left out some dusty old crap that we looked at but weren't interested in. Everything about him has a dank, dusty, abandoned feel about it. There were some garden pots we could have taken but they were just too dirty, and again there was that weird vibe about them. Then the next day he put about forty book-sized paper boxes out by the curb -- a huge pile of boxes. I thought they must be empty because I'd never seen anyone put so much stuff out before.

Later in the day we decided to check them out so we walked over there, (he lives cadicorner to my house and across the street), and opened some of the boxes. Surprise! Mr. Dark and Spooky, was a UCLA professor of animal research studies, a researcher and a vivisector, lovely, just my kind of guy. And to think he lived practically across the street from me all of these years and I didn't know this. I think I was being spared because if I'd known I would have had to get into it with him or it would have at the very least affected me in some way, added to my depression, who knows. As it was I simply didn't like him. But opening these boxes was just horrible -- dozens and dozens of books on animal research, the murder of pigs, monkeys, rabbits, dogs, cats, rats and I don't know what else, squirrels I think, all there for the taking. He had boxes of his research notes with photographs and slides of rabbit and rats pinned down with needles and instruments sticking in to their necks. Then there were shots of their bodies opened up, the way a high school biology teacher might make you dissect a frog.

I was afraid to move the first boxes we opened to look through the piles of boxes underneath. I thought I should in case I found pictures of cats and dogs so I could somehow use these against him and people like him, no one seems to care about the little animals that are routinely butchered in so called research, but some people care when it comes to cats and dogs. However unlike the person I used to be, I just couldn't bring myself to touch his filthy stuff -- couldn't bring myself to look at any more of it. It was horrifying -- and I can't believe he left it all out like that. Why didn't he take it with him? Why did he leave it out on the curb? Did he think some passerby would want his cruel trash? Is his dirty ego really that big?

No one took the stuff, it sat there for days, and from my room I could see nannies and children opening the boxes, poking around, and then moving on. I saw a few cars stop, people would get out, look at the boxes then make faces and get back in their cars. I called PETA and left a message just in case they could use the materials, use the photos in some way. Then someone came and picked up about three quarters of it, maybe it was them. I'd like to think it was, even though my heart tells me it wasn't.

I always knew there was something off about him. Through the years I have tried to be friendly to him but he holds himself at a distance and now I know why. We are matter and antimatter and he must have known this somehow. Fucker. He's this lonely, absent, older guy, who doesn't connect with his neighbors, who's house is the only one around that has no color, no flowers, no life.

Oh blee my Mom just called and I can't get out of having to deal with my financial stuff this week. She wants me to come over and look at the charges on the Citibank card. Weeeee. Yesterday she decided the whole should Rosa go with us to Hawaii or not thing for us by inviting her. I can't believe I'm going to have to deal with her so closely, but on the other hand I'll be grateful for the help. Mom is more than a handful for anyone. Am I sounding like that character Tracy Ulman plays, the spinster lady who takes care of her elderly mother. I've got the whole crazy cat thing going.

I've been having the weirdest dreams lately. My dreams are pretty unusual in general but these really stood out. In one of them I was guest starring on Friends and was really excited to be hanging out with Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox. We were all trying bridesmaid dresses on together. But then when I lifted my arms I had these tumors in my armpits that were huge and round and scary. Later I had this dream that I was having a bowl of cereal when I noticed there was a picture of these baby cows, okay calves, on the cereal box. So I reached into the image on the box and pulled these little cows out. They were as small as a kitten and they were weak. I got a syringe and fed them some of my milk from my cereal. I had to stop and think for a minute about whether they could have milk. It was all so confusing, and then the rest of the dream was about protecting and caring for these little cows. People would steal them from me and I'd have to go find them. I was in some weird cowboy town, very primitive like something out of McCabe and Mrs. Miller only more contemporary, and there was this weird abusive family with a mean little girl who abuses animals. She took my cows and I had to get them back from her, but her parents were making me do strange things to earn them back. Then there were all these weird water things going on, floods and strange underwater contraptions, like submarine poles that we have to hang on to in groups that would take us deep underwater and then lift us back up to the surface again. I'll analyze all of this later if I can find the time. Right now I have to go damnit.


Ebay is such a dangerous addiction/hook for me. Whenever anyone beats me out on something, I want to go look at whatever they're bidding on and snag something from them, but I don't. I have my own little Ebay code of ethics.
I was afraid to move the first boxes we opened to look through the piles of boxes underneath. I thought I should in case I found pictures of cats and dogs so I could somehow use these against him and people like him, no one seems to care about the little animals that are routinely butchered in so called research, but some people care when it comes to cats and dogs. However unlike the person I used to be, I just couldn't bring myself to touch his filthy stuff -- couldn't bring myself to look at any more of it. It was horrifying -- and I can't believe he left it all out like that. Why didn't he take it with him? Why did he leave it out on the curb? Did he think some passerby would want his cruel trash? Is his dirty ego really that big?

No one took the stuff, it sat there for days, and from my room I could see nannies and children opening the boxes, poking around, and then moving on. I saw a few cars stop, people would get out, look at the boxes then make faces and get back in their cars. I called PETA and left a message just in case they could use the materials, use the photos in some way. Then someone came and picked up about three quarters of it, maybe it was them. I'd like to think it was, even though my heart tells me it wasn't.

I always knew there was something off about him. Through the years I have tried to be friendly to him but he holds himself at a distance and now I know why. We are matter and antimatter and he must have known this somehow. Fucker. He's this lonely, absent, older guy, who doesn't connect with his neighbors, who's house is the only one around that has no color, no flowers, no life.

Oh blee my Mom just called and I can't get out of having to deal with my financial stuff this week. She wants me to come over and look at the charges on the Citibank card. Weeeee. Yesterday she decided the whole should Rosa go with us to Hawaii or not thing for us by inviting her. I can't believe I'm going to have to deal with her so closely, but on the other hand I'll be grateful for the help. Mom is more than a handful for anyone. Am I sounding like that character Tracy Ulman plays, the spinster lady who takes care of her elderly mother. I've got the whole crazy cat thing going.

I've been having the weirdest dreams lately. My dreams are pretty unusual in general but these really stood out. In one of them I was guest starring on Friends and was really excited to be hanging out with Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox. We were all trying bridesmaid dresses on together. But then when I lifted my arms I had these tumors in my armpits that were huge and round and scary. Later I had this dream that I was having a bowl of cereal when I noticed there was a picture of these baby cows, okay calves, on the cereal box. So I reached into the image on the box and pulled these little cows out. They were as small as a kitten and they were weak. I got a syringe and fed them some of my milk from my cereal. I had to stop and think for a minute about whether they could have milk. It was all so confusing, and then the rest of the dream was about protecting and caring for these little cows. People would steal them from me and I'd have to go find them. I was in some weird cowboy town, very primitive like something out of McCabe and Mrs. Miller only more contemporary, and there was this weird abusive family with a mean little girl who abuses animals. She took my cows and I had to get them back from her, but her parents were making me do strange things to earn them back. Then there were all these weird water things going on, floods and strange underwater contraptions, like submarine poles that we have to hang on to in groups that would take us deep underwater and then lift us back up to the surface again. I'll analyze all of this later if I can find the time. Right now I have to go damnit.
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