The Dietitian

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Every year, my company pays for me to have a full physical done. It’s a nice perk, actually, except that every year they tell me in some way or form that I am morbidly obese.

Some years, it’s my BMI. Other years, it’s my Body Fat %. One year, my LDL cholesterol was just 1 point too high. I’m young and healthy, right in the center of where I’m supposed to be on the Height/Weight chart, so I tend to mostly ignore the comments about my supposed obesity.

This year, my Body Fat % was measured at 26.0% by the pinch test, so they brought in an on-site dietitian to talk with me. Insert April Ludgate saying, “I hate talking. To people. About things.” 

April Ludgate.gif

The dietitian and I went over my typical meals and snacks throughout the week. I think I eat pretty healthy, especially considering how I ate my first year out of college.

Cookie SliceBack when I started at this company (and all the bitterness began), I used to comfort myself with an entire Slice from Great American Cookie Company. Every day.

Once I realized that was a terrible life choice, I transitioned to a season where only after a particularly hard day at work would I come home and bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies to eat in its entirety. By myself.

From there, I moved to just eating a dark chocolate bar (the whole bar). Now – eight years later – I allow myself a handful of almonds and blueberries while I watch an episode of Parks & Rec to help me unwind.

I made all of these decisions over the past few years without a dietitian, and I feel pretty good about my food choices. But last week when I told the dietitian that I eat almonds for a snack, she said, “You need to stop eating so many nuts. They are high in fat.”

Almonds.png“Yeah, but I’m eating almonds, not peanuts. And it’s good fat.”

“How do you feel about celery?”

“I feel like I don’t hate myself.”

We moved on from snacks to my lunch choices, and when she found out that I eat salads for lunch – which I think should have constituted at least a tiny smile and “good job” – her first question was, “How much dressing do you put on?” I go to Salata and ask them to half the dressing, I told her, proud of myself.

But there was no praise to be had. Did this woman know my boss? Were they related? “You should really ask for the dressing on the side,” she chided me.

Internally rolling my eyes, we moved on to protein shakes. “How much fruit do you put in?” I was cautioned to only use vegetables, not fruit, because fruit is “high in sugar.” I also use almond milk, and she shook her head. Another error on my part evidently. “Almond milk doesn’t have the same protein count as regular milk. You need to be drinking soy instead.” But aren’t there hormone concerns with drinking soy?

For breakfast, I eat one hardboiled egg. Surely she can’t say anything negative about that. Oh, but she could. “You should add some fruit to your breakfast.”

“But I thought fruit was high in sugar.” Hadn’t she just told me that?

“But you need to add carbohydrates to your breakfast. Try eating an apple or banana.”

It was a miserable experience. I feel like I’m doing a lot of things right. I don’t eat a Starbucks pastry for breakfast in the mornings like I want to. I eat an egg. I don’t eat pizza for lunch to comfort my miserable self from my life of sitting in a cubicle all day. I eat a salad. I only eat out about twice per week, but I was strongly advised, “You need to be splitting your entrees. Your waist can’t afford to eat an entire entree.”

At the same height and age range, I weigh less than this girl:

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My waist is 28″, and my hips are 37″. I am healthy. Could I afford to work out more? Yes. But I’m already pretty restrictive on my diet, and a little bit of positive encouragement would have gone much further than all of the chastising.

I shouldn’t have been surprised at the treatment, though. This woman is affiliated with my company. I can’t wait to leave.

Authentically Aurora

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I’m a Fixer Upper

Chip and Jojo

Have y’all seen that show Fixer Upper? It’s about this adorable couple Chip and Joanna Gaines who buy questionable houses in great neighborhoods and flip them, transforming them into dream homes within the budgets of their clientele.

Fixer Upper has been on HDTV for three years, but as a solely Netflix girl myself, I’m a little late to the house flipping party. But now that it’s on Netflix, I’m watching and loving it. Who doesn’t love a good before & after story?

While watching an episode last night, it occurred to me that this week (fraught with the stress of almost-swimsuit-season) I have been brainstorming how to do a fixer upper on myself. Oh, this body has so much potential. If only we could fix this here and update that there… Yes, gentlemen, that’s generally how the female mind works. Our bodies are perpetually a canvas; a project; a fixer upper just begging for updating.

I made the mistake of trying on swimsuits yesterday. That was really the impetus for this whole concept of transforming myself through my very own personal fixer upper. I have estimated my costs as follows:

MANICURE

PEDICURE

HAIRCUT

WAXING

STITCH FIX

In these house flipping shows, there’s always a budget crunch, so when I was considering the slush portion of this month’s budget ($300), I decided to pluck my own eyebrows instead of having them threaded. I’ll also shave my own legs instead of having them waxed. Together, that should save me about $60 and keep me within budget.

Then there’s always some disaster – some unexpected expense, like foundation or electrical issues. In my case, it was realizing that even the cutest clothes Stitch Fix has to offer can’t fix up this body until I shed some tonnage. I’d like to lose about six pounds in the next three weeks, but there is a cost associated with losing two pounds per week. The weekly cost?

DIET AND EXERCISE

Spending $300 on a spa day and new clothes? Sign me up. But depriving my body of delicious cookies AND sweating it out at the gym?! That may be more than my personal budget can handle. I was okay with all of the other expenses, but this last one – the unexpected disaster that is those six extra pounds on my hips – may do us in. Looks like this Flip may turn out to be a Flop! 

Authentically Aurora

P.S. Handy as he is, Seth almost took a job as a general contractor for a custom homes business earlier this year. I’ve decided that we need to get married STAT and start flipping houses. We’d be even more adorable than Chip and Jojo.

(P.P.S. Seth, if you’ve found my blog by now, I’m just kidding about getting married stat. I’m not envisioning myself in a white dress by Christmas. Please don’t freak out and break up with me on Monday. xoxo)

If You Give a Mentor a Cookie…

If_you_give_a_mouse_a_cookieToday in the hallways of the office, I ran into my awesome friend Jason, who reminds me of a younger version of Bitter Ben – introverted, quick-witted, adorably awkward and absolutely hilarious (seriously, Ben, do you have a nephew named Jason? Because I swear you two are related…).

Anyway, Jason asked me how my day was going, and I showed him the stack of papers in my hand – my freshly scanned application to get certified for babysitting foster kids.

“Oh wow. You’re such a rock star,” Jason told me, clapping me on the arm. “Although you know you could come watch my kids anytime – no certification required!”

I laughed. Jason has two little boys – ages 6 and 3 – and from what I hear, they are a handful. “Ha. About six months ago, I tried to volunteer to be a Girl Scout Troop Leader, but nobody ever got back to me. So now the foster kids get me instead.” I winked at him with a grin.

“Oh, come on. You know the only reason you were doing Girl Scouts was for the free cookies.”

“Actually, it was specifically for the Thin Mints,” I joked back. “Although we probably need to get them to change the name. False advertising,” I went on as a bubbly blonde walked past us in the hallway, pausing to say hello.

“Hey,” I greeted her in return. “Jason and I were just talking about how the Girl Scouts need to change the name of their Thin Mint cookies to ‘Fat Mints’. One time I tried going on a diet of nothing but Thin Mints, but somehow, I didn’t get any thinner.”

While Jason chuckled, the blonde looked at me with a mixture of disdain and confusion. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a thing…” she said as she walked away, size 2 hips swaying down the hallway.

This is why socially awkward people like Jason and I have to stick together. Socially adept, celery-stick-eating people don’t get our cool puns or weighty jokes.

Thin Mints Fat Mints

Authentically Aurora

Laughing Our Way Through London – Part II

ManateeIf you were an animal, what animal would you be? I’ve found this to be a great first date question. The animal a person assigns to oneself can reveal much about interests, values and self-perception.

Unfortunately, the last time I played that game, I asked it on a double date, and the three other people at the table dubbed me a weasel, a mouse, and “a large, white rabbit” – the last one from my ex-boyfriend. So not only am I most definitely a rodent, I am evidently a large rodent. Was the word “large” really necessary, sweetheart?

Ashley, Kelly, Ron and I played this game over a traditional High Tea in Oxford last week. I’d been curious to try clotted cream, and Browns Brasserie delivered. In addition to Earl Gray tea – served in a porcelain tea pot, complete with cream and lumps of sugar – we were served cucumber sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, tarts, truffles, custard and more.

After finishing off our tower of treats, Ashley leaned back in her chair, looked over at me and asked, “Do you feel like a large rabbit? Because I feel like a manatee.”

As we all laughed, she went on, “Do you know what a manatee is?” Without missing a beat, she said dryly, “A sea cow.”

Alluding to the relationship between Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins on Parks & Recreation, I joked, “But you are a beautiful, majestic sea cow.”

Ashley’s retort? “I need to be more like a majestic antelope.”

Fair enough. That’s what post-vacation diets are for!

Authentically Aurora