lazy

I've been such a slacker with exercise. I really do want to be fit and active -- I love biking, hiking, all the water sports, and more -- but I can't seem to find the energy and motivation to get out there and get back in shape. Exercise is just no fun for me at this level (i.e. complete lack) of fitness.

Does anyone have a suggestion for how to get over the hump and become consistent with this habit?

pleased monday

I lost another eight-tenths of a pound this week. It may be slow, but at least it's the right direction.

Here's my weekly weigh-in chart.

m-o-n-e-y !!!

During a bout of insomnia the other night, I decided to start tackling the pile of clutter I call my office. I pulled out an old file box that's been carted from home to home with me but hasn't been opened for 10 years or so. I never got rid of it because I knew there were important documents in there.

So I looked, and there WERE important documents in there!

I found a statement of investment with a mutual fund that I had entirely forgotten about. This is very wrong and irresponsible behavior.

I received a gift of about $2500 when I was 18, and my boyfriend at the time helped me pick out a mutual fund to park it in. My file contains all of the statements that I dutifully read and organized during the time that I was in college. I did everything right, just as my mother taught me.

My mom is the most organized person you will ever meet. Literally. A few weeks ago, I mentioned going to my grandma's birthday party. Since it was to be a surprise, and my mom and I were the ones to take Grandma there, Mom had to rely on other folks to set it up. She had everything needed for the party packed in boxes labeled with typed inventory lists that she delivered ahead of time. Jars and containers inside the boxes were also labeled, even though the contents were unquestionably clear. She even had different agendas for everyone helping that said things like: 3:00 arrive at site, 3:05 set up chairs, 3:15 put tablecloths on tables, 3:20 unpack box #4, 3:35 break, etc. On top of this, each person received an emailed list of instructions that rivaled Tolstoy's War and Peace in length. All this for a party of about 25 people.

So it is expected that I carry out my life in a put-together, responsible fashion. I did that for a while. But I take after my father more than my mother, and he is the most DISorganized person you will ever meet. Really.

My natural tendency is not for planning and following schedules and the like. My true nature reared its ugly head after I got out of college, and my life fell to pieces. I try to keep those pieces together, but I must admit it's a struggle. Sometimes I lose track of one thing or another and have to go urgently scrambling after it, begging and pleading for things to work out, while I momentarily neglect everything else in my life.

This is not a recommended way to live. I have enough sense to know that, but I have not been able to convince this mind of mine to change for any appreciable length of time.

So I found this thing I had lost. When I called the fund, I found out that their address of record for me is a place I never even lived. It is the apartment I was supposed to move into when I left college. See, Mom? I was organized for a short period of time. Before I moved away, I arranged a change of address. <pat on back>

But since I didn't move into that address, the fund had no way of obtaining a new address from me. And since I didn't receive any more statements to add to my file in the little box I didn't use anymore, I plumb forgot about it.

My heart dropped when I heard that there was no record of my account number. Then my spirits soared when I found out that the problem was simply that account numbers had changed sometime during the last ten years while I was neglecting the details of my life. And now I am on Cloud Nine because it turns out that that original $2500 is now worth over $13000!

Acknowledgements: Thank you, Mom, for trying to instill some sense of responsibility and orderliness in me. I have you to thank for any semblance of order that is found in my life. And thank you, High-School-Sweetheart, for helping me pick a mutual fund that has far outperformed any other funds I've chosen myself to build on the very small sums of toiled-for cash I've managed to set aside in the years since.

a whole new light

The other day one of my friends was at my house, and she casually mentioned that she had once weighed 250 pounds. I did not know this about her. She's my height and wears an 8 or 6 now.

I have another friend who is as thin as a rail. She's the singer in a band and looks pretty darn good on stage. She used to be fat too. Look at her old photos if you don't believe me.

These are two people who I met after they were thin. When each one revealed the fact of her former self, I was kind of taken aback. My first thought was no, not this person. It's like I almost couldn't wrap my mind around it. Then I started seeing each of them in a whole new light. They both won this fight I'm fighting, and that's pretty amazing. To lose many many pounds and keep them off year after year is no small feat.

But also: I get a feeling of relief from hearing this information. I can take a big sigh and let go of all those uncomfortable feelings I have about myself, if only for a moment. Because this person has been there. She can understand and relate to what I'm going through, and, honestly, that's kind of comforting.

It's also very inspiring. Here are two people in my own world who have been successful with this. Maybe that means there's hope for me too.

contented monday

I lost a pound this week. Honestly, I was secretly hoping for more since last week wasn't so great, but I'll take it.

It's one more step in the right direction so I'm content.


Here's my weekly weigh-in chart again.

map my walk, bike, jog

I imagine everyone's already tried this utility, but I'll write about it anyway because it's just so much fun.

The Map My Run site uses google maps to calculate the distance you moved. Marked running trails are great, but the ones around here sure can be boring. There's a 3-mile one within walking distance of my house, but I really prefer to walk through the neighborhoods or along the bayou because it's just more interesting. I actually don't really care so much about distance, but it is fun to go on the mapping site from time to time to see how far I've gone and get an idea of how fast I'm moving.

These days I haven't been walking for long times; I used to head out of the house and just move for an hour and a half or two. It was times like those that it was interesting to log on and see how far I travelled.

You can also put in your time and get your pace and speed. It'll estimate the number of calories you burned if you input your weight, height, gender and age. Of course, that part wouldn't be anywhere near accurate if you're using the site to find your biking or rollerblading or skipping distances.

If I ever knock the dust off my bike or start jogging again, this tool will be so much fun to use to find my distance and average pace so I can see how I'm improving. Yay for Map My Run!

indulgences

That darn Costco! I've been betrayed again!

First, they took away my beloved Neutrogena facial peel. I try to use this twice a week, and my skin has never been smoother. It was a mere $40 for two jars, but now I have to pay a whole $25 for one jar because you-know-who stopped carrying it.

Then they started offering some delicious no-name vegetable patties. Yum! They're made with just vegetables and sunflower seeds and wheat or something like that to hold it all together. It's a treat to be able to quickly heat up one of these tasty creations and stuff it into a pita with some veggies and avocado, especially when most of your food is made from scratch and you sometimes just want something easy that still approximates the whole foods way of eating you're trying to embrace. Guess what? They're gone now too.

And now? Just when I've gotten used to the luxury of a chilled 10 ounce glass bottle of sparkling Perrier, they take those off the shelf. For the most part I stay away from caffeine and too much artificial stuff, so a mineral water is my treat when I don't feel like plain ol' ordinary flat water. I blame my time spent in Spain for turning me on to sparkling water, which I previously thought was not pleasant at all.

I love the 10 ounce size. It's a perfect amount. And I love the glass bottle because the drink inside stays so wonderfully cool.

Now Costco is stocking half liter plastic bottles, and that's just too much to drink in one sitting. Plus, if you drink it at a leisurely pace, it starts warming up! Gasp! This phenomenon takes away from the whole indulgent experience.

People will make fun of me for having a preference, for bothering to care. But it matters. It matters to me, and it even matters to a few discriminating people I know. At least I think it does since we've discussed similar reasons for drinking soda out of a can. The plastic bottle is so big that we never finish it, and if we come back to it later, it's lost some of its fizz so it's just not as satisfying and tasty. Plus, it warms up faster, and we really don't like that.

So, Costco, if you're listening, please bring back the old Perrier bottles. The new product offends my delicate sensibilities. And if it's not too much trouble can you start stocking the facial peel and vegetable patties again too? Thanks. I heart you.

grace

I'm not a huge video game fan, but I do like me some Dance Dance Revolution (DDR).

I'd love to say the years of dance training I had as a girl are apparent when I play this game, but unfortunately that is just not the case. My moves are uncoordinated and sometimes spastic. No grace here.

But! It's such a great way to work up a sweat and enjoy doing it. That's why it's not unusual for friends to come over to play with me.

The other night, one of my friends, GirlF, was dancing around with the DDR. And, apparently, she's as graceless as I am because she tooted! So caught up in the challenge was she that she let it slip out. Silent but violent, you know the type.

And I didn't know what to do. I can't recall ever having experienced someone else's flatulence as an adult when they didn't own up or even give me a little forewarning to make an escape. I know sometimes there's nothing you can do about the gas; it's coming whether you like it or not. That's the point at which I usually mumble some sort of, "I'm sooo sorry."

But what do you do when it's dealt by someone else? Someone who is not your significant other or a member of your immediate family? Am I supposed to just pretend it didn't happen? Or am I supposed to say, "Dang, girl! What'd you eat for dinner?!"

I chose to reclaim some semblance of grace for our evening and politely breathed through my mouth and acted as if my smell sensors were temporarily out of order while it lingered there for several minutes and on the three occasions after that that I detected the wretched odor. And we both lived happily ever after.

discouraged monday

Drat. I only went down four tenths of a pound this week.

It was a lazy week for me. I relied on some frozen foods, and I ate out several times. Although I thought I made healthy selections, it appears to have had a negative effect. I also had a lot of diet coke instead of my usual water.

I learned that I need to be more rigorous if I'm going to achieve a size I like in the foreseeable future. Also worth mentioning: I just feel better eating whole foods I prepare myself.

Again, here's my weekly weigh-in chart.

out of breath

One of the consequences of being overweight and out of shape is that embarrassing things happen. No, I'm not talking about farts sneaking out when I bend over or not being able to squeeze into a seat -- those things haven't happened to me yet, at least not when I haven't just eaten a big bowl of beans <wink>; thank Heaven I decided to stop gaining when I did. The things I'm talking about are embarrassing simply because they hurt my pride.

So I was glad the other evening when I climbed the three flights of stairs to a friend's apartment and arrived breathing normally. I know the last time I did it I was huffing and puffing at the top because I remember trying to hide it with deliberate deep and quiet breaths forced in and out through my nose so she wouldn't be thinking fat girl things about me. Which is silly, really, because I am fat. Real fat is not something a person can hide, like they can a few extra pounds with a well-cut pant.

Anyway. I haven't lost much more than a handful of pounds, and my exercise exploits haven't been particularly rigorous. But! It seems to be working. And that's a load off my mind.

two updates: one where i eat my words and the other where i am healed

I eat my words.
In these posts, I whined at length about my hairdressers (yes, that's a plural -- one for cut, one for color). And in the end, I swore off my colorist, ColorWonder.

But, Oh! how I regret that. I was too harsh. Or maybe my new 'do is just so awful that I'm willing to accept ColorWonder, with his lying ways and drugs and all. After all, we don't have to be BFF. I just need him to do my hair.

I went to New Guy. New Guy said wonderful things about the glory that I was to become. New Guy said he would cut six inches off my hair (fine by me since it was way too long already), and he promptly cut off about ten. And those extra four inches are the difference between shoulder- and chin-length.

Now, I don't mind chin-length hair on principle. But, given my current condition (that in which my chin has taken on a mate. Shall we call him "Double"?), a chin-length 'do is just not flattering. Double is shy, and this new nakedness makes him feel so exposed.

But what's worse is that the chin-length tresses were not shaped with any consideration of current fashion. I am now the not-so-proud owner of a bob. Without any texture or layers cut into it, it falls flat on the top and widens at the end where all the pieces come together in one blunt end. It's a triangle-do, if I'm not careful with styling. I know I'd think it's great if I had a toddler at my knee and a baby on my hip, but I don't have either of those things. And I don't think it's great. Because I live in the city, y'all, and I'm required to maintain at least a smidgen of style-a-la-mode (How's that for attempting to use a language I know nothing about?).

And also? Also, New Guy said he would take me from brunette to blonde with highlights that look natural. New Guy gave me highlights that are anything but. They are streaky and amateurish-looking. I've got stripes. Ask BoyGenius if you don't believe me. He understands these things -- the subtle or not-so-subtle differences between a good hair style and a great one -- and he also rates this guy as artless.

If the above testimony doesn't suffice, here's the true test. . . I visited family (suburbia and country dwellers all) right after this was done to me and I got COMPLIMENTS. A lot of them. And, like I said, I would probably like this hairdo if I lived their lifestyle and ran in the same circles. But back here at home, where I must live and work and play, I have gotten ZERO remarks from friends or anyone else. And it certainly couldn't be that nobody's noticed. I mean, TEN INCHES! And brunette to BLONDE! The only conclusion I can come to is that it is very bad indeed, and it would hurt everyone's hearts too much to mention it.

But do you know what the worst part of all this is? One hundred eighty dollars! I'm still dumbfounded that I just swallowed my shock and whipped out that credit card. Why didn't I object? $180 for this? This is not good, and you, New Guy, are an amateur. How dare you charge so much? Do you think you are better than Scissorhands? Better than ColorWonder?

And I'm sorry I didn't get all bitter and wretched and complain about the cut while I was there and insist on a lower price too -- at the time I thought it might grow on me. At least I did tell him outright that I was not loving or even liking his color job since I am 32 now and know that I don't have to pretend I like it. I'm sure that $180 (plus tip, mind you. Apparently I still have things to learn.) will heal any hurt feelings he acquired over my disapproval.

So, Scissorhands, I'm very sorry for cheating on you. Thank you for calling me with your new contact information. I love you and your boring, bitter rants. I will see you ASAP, but first I must earn some money because New Guy took me for everything I had.

And, ColorWonder, I'm not moving on. I take it back. I am eating my words as I write this. I don't care that New Guy (unbidden) confirmed my suspicions that you had fallen off the wagon and had been showing up late. I'll see you soon at one and a half hours past my next appointment time. XO


I am healed.
Last week I wrote about some freak-show-worthy swelling. I'd never experienced anything like it. And I am happy to report that it is gone! All gone. Thank Heaven and the exercise I've been trying to do more of. At least I'll pretend that that's what had an effect (the exercise, not Heaven).

onederful monday

It's a onederful Monday because I'm back in Onederland, and it feels just like home. I LIKE it!

198.6, Baby!

Here's my weekly weigh-in log if you're not bored enough already.

no april fooling here

When I started this thing I'm doing, I decided to take my measurements once a month. The beginning was only a few weeks ago (March 12th), but I'm going to measure on the 1st from now on, just because it's an easy-to-remember date. Rent? Check. Measure? Check check.

Anyway, I was tempted, so tempted!, to report a bigger loss in inches than I actually observed because I wanted to be amazing and proud and things like that. I wonder if other bloggers feel this way sometimes. Do people embellish the truth just a little to come off more interesting? It's certainly a little tantalizing because, really, nobody would know. I could Get Away With It and so could you. After all, does it really matter? It's just a blog, for Chrissakes.

But! I also made a decision when I started this thing to be honest and real -- no sugar-coating or embellishment. I'm sure I could spin some fanciful stories that make my life seem far more interesting or more important or better in some way than it actually is. But so far I've succeeded in telling the truth, and I'm not going to let a little thing like a waist measurement spoil my blog integrity. Because if you don't have blog integrity, you don't have much in this world. Heheh.

Anyway, just to be sure that I don't feel tempted again I'm going to post a photo of my tape measure during the actual act of measuring my waist from now on.


That's it right there. And I should be proud. I don't have to embellish to make it seem important. That's a 1.25" loss in my waist in 20 days. (And oh wow! my belly skin look gross that close up.)

It's not a miracle number. It's not going to make people say, Wow! How'd she do that? But it's awesome nonetheless. I could still be at 42". Or worse, I could have grown even bigger. But I haven't. I haven't because I'm taking charge of this body, and I am smaller! I am shrinking! No matter how slow or fast, that is a Good Thing.

Here's a chart of my itty bitty progress so far with all the measurements I'm tracking.

my boyfriend says i'm sexy

I totally stole that line from Rachel, whose mom says she's cool. I was reading her blog today, and I thought, Oh YEAH?! Well, my BOYFRIEND says I'M s-e-x-y. Take THAT, sweet Rachel! Heheh.

All kidding aside, I wrote the title sarcastically, just as I'm sure Rachel wrote hers, but really? It's true (both of our statements are, I'm sure).

My boyfriend, BoyGenius (because, y'all, he really blows my mind sometimes with his smarts. He is more brighter and cleverer than me, even. Heheh. And I LOVE that.), is to be commended. He definitely deserves some props here.

When I met BoyGenius many moons ago, I was wearing somewhere in the vicinity of a size 10. Today, as you see in my sidebar, I'm wearing 18s. Now that's a dramatic change. He should be thinking, THIS?! This is NOT what I signed up for!

And he probably is. In fact, I know he wants me to lose weight and look like I used to and be more active with him and all that. And I think it's only reasonable for him to want that for me. He's thin and healthy and lively, why shouldn't his mate have the same vitality?

But! He's never, ever said an unkind word about my appearance. Sexy? I know I'm not. I have the photos to prove it. Nonetheless, I get told that I am sexy and cute and pretty and irresistable and all sorts of pleasant things like that on a daily basis.

And that, dear reader, is proof that either he is a genius indeed for saying nice things only, or he loves me truly, truly, truly. Either way, I win!

101 things in 1001 days

I stumbled across this from Goobie yesterday, and it inspired me to do my own. I'm so bad at follow-through that this may be just what I need. My 1001 days will expire on Christmas Day of 2009.

If I tackle half of the things on my list, I'll feel pretty darn good. If I manage 75 of them, I think I'll feel like I'm really living my life. And if I do 95 or more, I'll know I'm really taking charge and making things happen. And that's saying something, for a slacker like me.

Here's to the list!

1. Apply to grad school.
2. Attend a dance class and learn an actual sequence.**
3. Audition for Amazing Race.
4. Buy a house.
5. Buy a new computer.**
   
6. Buy something designer.
7. Buy and wear something sexy just for BoyGenius.*
8. Call my fave cousin, just for a chat.*
9. Canoe or kayak in a fun place.**
10. Change a tire, all by myself.
11. Complete a bootcamp.
12. Crave exercise.**
13. Create a family history book.
14. Dance (or savor anything) in the rain.
15. Dance with BoyGenius.
16. Do a real striptease, no laughing or stopping.
17. Do the splits.**
18. Enter a triathlon.**
19. Enter an adventure race.
20. Exercise 14 days in a row.
21. Fix my car myself.
    
22. Get 30 minutes of early morning sunshine for 14 days.
23. Get an A on a "heavy" level Dance, Dance, Revolution song.
24. Get off the pill and switch to a non-systemic bc method like NuvaRing or just tracking my cycle a la Taking Charge of Your Fertility.
25. Get on the elliptical and ride for 60 minutes.**
26. Get professional certifications.
27. Get rid of any and all frumpy, unflattering clothes.
28. Give BoyGenius a compliment.* DONE!
    
29. Go deep sea fishing.**
30. Go on a big weekend away with friends.**
31. Go on a cruise.
32. Go on a real road trip to see places I've not seen.**
33. Go rock climbing.**
34. Go snorkeling.**
35. Go snow skiing.**
36. Go to the dentist.**
37. Go white-water rafting.
38. Have a firm booty.**
39. Have sex in the great outdoors, in a place where there's zero chance of getting caught.
40. Hike somewhere beautiful.**
41. Hold plank pose 1 minute.**
42. Host a well-thought-out dinner party.
43. Jog 3 miles, without breaks.**
44. Laugh so much it hurts.*
45. Learn to sail.
46. Like the way I look.
47. Love my legs.**
48. Lower my cholesterol to 175 or less.
49. Make a new friend.**
50. Make a short film.
51. Make a stranger's head turn.**
52. Make homemade tofu.
53. Make my mom feel special.*
    
54. Make sushi at home.**
55. Organize my closet.**
56. Organize my office.** DONE!
57. Play tennis.
58. Play the lottery.**
59. Put together a party or event for just girls.**
60. Reconnect with old friends.
61. Relax at the pool.*
    
62. Renew passport.
63. Ride a horse, even though I'm deathly afraid.**
64. Ride a roller coaster.**
65. Ride my bike.**
66. Save money by eliminating frivolous spending for a month (to start).
67. See and hike red rock formations in Utah.
    
68. See local historical homes.
69. See New York city.
70. Send cousin serving in Afghanistan a note.
71. Sew a dress.
72. Start a garden.
73. Start a profession-related newsletter.
74. Start my own business.
75. Swim and play at the base of a waterfall.**
76. Swim to the opposite shore at the lake.
77. Talk myself out of a bad mood.*
78. Tell my dad how I feel.**
79. Throw a crazy big party.
80. Track my spending and develop a realistic budget.
81. Travel (anywhere) with BoyGenius.**
82. Travel to France.
83. Travel to Italy.
84. Travel to Spain.**
85. Try at least 3 different fresh vegetable juice combinations.
    
86. Vacation with my family.**
87. Video chat with mom.
88. Visit my brother.**
89. Visit farmers' market.**
90. Visit my grandma.**
91. Wake up early for a week.**
92. Watch zero teevee for a week.**
93. Wear a bikini, in public.**
94. Wear shorts.**
95. Wear size 16.**
96. Wear size 14.**
97. Wear size 12.**
98. Wear size 10.**
99. Wear size 8.**
100. Wear size 6.**
101. Work through The Artist's Way.
     

______
Phew! It was hard to come up with all of those! I'm sure I'm missing something huge that I've always wanted to do, but that's okay. This list will suffice.

If there's no star, it's something I've never done before.
* Things I've done, but they are simple to do. I don't do them often enough.
** Things I've done, but it's been a VERY long time (IMO) or will take some real effort to do again.

swollen

I don't recognize this body I'm in.

I've talked a little before about how all this fat makes me feel like a stranger in my own skin, but the past few days seem like another beast entirely. I'm swollen -- puffier, fluffier than usual.

My ankle skin is taut, like a sausage about to burst. I can actually feel it, all the fluid stretching the limits of my outermost layer. A crease has even developed in there. A not-at-all-subtle crease. It's marking the transition from leg to foot (that place where my ankle used to be), and my flesh is horrifyingly bulging above the new demarcation.

Now, I've complained before that my ankles were a little pudgy. When I said that, all I meant was that my ankle bone was a little less prominent than I was used to. But I still HAD ankles! Now they've disappeared altogether!!

I was trying on shoes the other day, and every time I went to look in that little mirror that crops the view to just the lowest fifth of the body (you know the one, the one that highlights with great emphasis this affliction of mine), my heart skipped a beat. It literally went all aflutter at the horror: the state my health must be in for this to happen. And, oh yeah, my stomach turned sour, sour, sour. I was literally sick over it.

I don't know what alarming malfunction in my body is causing this, but there must be a cure. And I'm bound and determined to find it, sooner rather than later.

First experimental treatment to try: exercise. That's right! I'm going to get my blood flowing and my lymph pumping and see if I can't just flush it all away.

put down that cookie!

It was Grandma's 80th birthday last week so over the weekend we had a big surprise party for her. She felt so proud and special to have all of her family and long-time friends travel to see her and wish her well. It's always fun to get all the old-timers together and listen to their stories. They're a lively bunch, and all day long we just laugh and laugh at the hijinks of days gone by.

Anyway, here's the point of this post: one of the things that was brought to the party was a basketful of out-of-this-world (or so I heard) chocolate chip cookies. Everyone was raving. And most everyone took a bunch home with them.

The next morning Aunt was teasing Uncle for eating five whole cookies the night before in their hotel room. Hahaha, that's so funny, he's a piggy -- right?

Really, though, I wouldn't have thought anything about it at all if she hadn't commented on it as if it were unusual. I thought his consumption was pretty reasonable. I mean 5 smallish cookies isn't so bad, is it? If it had been me and I were craving them like he was, it might have been the whole stash that disappeared, not just five. It's times like this that I realize that I do have a disturbed relationship with food, and I need to be cognizant of the kinds of situations that bring out the worst of it.

Why can some people naturally listen to their bodies and some people can't (or just don't)? Is it the way we were raised?

thankful monday

I'm down another pound since last week. It's not the four pounds of week 1, but I did go out of town over the weekend and participate in several celebrations so I won't complain one bit.

I am thankful for that one pound.

roni's new weight loss community

Roni, of Weight Watchen fame, is a real weight-loss role model. She lost 70 pounds and has kept it off for over a year. Plus, she shares it all very candidly on her site. She talks about her story and displays photos of every step along the way, including the tummy tuck she had after she lost all the weight. If you haven't already gone over there for some thinspiration, I suggest you do it quick. You'll be passing up cookies and french fries like nobody's business after seeing the transformation she's made.

Now she's gone even further to help people who are trying to follow in her footsteps. She started WeightWatchen Blogs! to give all the losers a place to blog, connect, and give and get support. What a great resource for anyone who's starting a new blog or wants supplement their current blog. Check it out and start your own!

Thanks, Roni, for everything you do!

the return of a missing hairdresser

You guys are awesome!! Thanks so much for your input; it was exactly what I wanted to hear.

So this morning I got this email from ColorWonder. It's his response to my email saying that I already made an appointment with New Guy so I'm set for this time. I actually hesitated to post it for ten whole people to read, but I decided that it is my duty and obligation to share any further happenings with this story...

please do me a favor. please cancel your appt. normally i wouldn't ask, but [the salon] was stealing from me, thats why i left! also i could really use the money, i am so broke. if you don't want to cancel your appt, i understand. another reason i had difficulty reaching my clients, is [the salon] refused to give me my client's info and previous paperwork. its been terrible, and i am actually speaking to a lawyer about it right now. i will fill you in with all the juicy details...reguardless.

no matter what, i still care about you and be honored to do your do anytime.

sincerely,

[ColorWonder]

I already feel bad about posting the note, but I'm about to feel worse for tearing it apart...

1. I probably shouldn't even bother to mention the errors because those are totally beside the point (although some of them are entertaining -- reGUARDless, for example).
2. ColorWonder is obviously trying to be extra dramatic and guilt-inducing.
   
3. If ColorWonder really was being stolen from, couldn't he have strategized his exit so that he collected all of his information before leaving? If it was something he planned, he should have had the upper hand. He's left a salon before and taken my contact info as well as my history with the color formula he used each time so why couldn't he do it this time too?
4. ColorWonder has had my email address for several years. I would assume that it would be in his computer and easy to find (but maybe that's too logical).
5. ColorWonder has even emailed me to get my new address after a recent move so I would think he could look up my email address or mailing address in his archives (again, maybe that's too logical).
   
6. My phone number and address are listed so ColorWonder could have gotten them easily through information if he had really wanted to keep me as a client.
7. If ColorWonder couldn't bother to call information, he could have called Scissorhands for my information since they are friends.
   
8. I wonder why so many stylists stay at ColorWonder's salon if people are getting "stolen" from?
   
9. I should mention that ColorWonder has a history of drug use. Recently.

So. I suspect ColorWonder is lying to me. If he had really wanted to keep me, he could have done that sometime in the last three months. I imagine he came to the salon late one too many times or showed up high or who knows what, and they asked him to leave. That would explain why he didn't get his client list. He's probably just hanging around in an unmotivated, drug-induced state and couldn't be bothered to try to do something logical and proactive to locate all of his clients in order to get him out of that "so broke" state he's in.

Of course, this is all speculation.

Regardless [sic hehe!], ColorWonder, I'm moving on.