Hello 230s! It's Been a Loooong Time!

On Sunday, I weighed in at 239.5 for The Challenge, and today I saw 238 for a fleeting moment, and I was feeling great, like I am finally getting into territory where I'm not totally self-conscious about my weight. 95 el-bees down ain't too shabby for this band soldier.

And then, it happened again. I met an old colleague for lunch, someone I have not seen in about six months, and whom I see only about twice per year. Nil. Nada. Nunca. She made no comment about my smokin' new bod (just humor me, girls). I remember when I met her in June, I was disappointed that she did not notice my loss, but that was 45 pounds ago. Ninety-friggin'-five pounds pounds down, and I get a comment about my "cute sweater". Really? In her defense, my sweater was really cute.


Alas, I'll just keep on keepin' on, cause that's how I roll.

Me and My Band

We seem to be having sort of a love/hate relationship lately. I love the fact that she's dong her job, and that the scale has started to move again, but I hate that my level of tightness varies from day to day and even meal to meal. I'm scared to get an unfill, but regularly get stuck on solid food, especially meat, no matter how well I chew. This is a recent development, yet I was last filled in August. I have lost almost 20 lbs since then, so one might expect that the band would loosen as my stomach shrinks. Nope, not so much. She has a mind of her own.

It's been so beautiful here in Temecula this week. The temperature is in the high 70's and the sun is shining brightly. Not too shabby, as we kick off December. I just went and picked some pomegranates off our tree and split one open for an afternoon snack. So delicious! Our apples are also at the peak of ripeness, and so very sweet and tart, just as I like them. I think I'm adjusting to country living just fine--except this morning, when I took my dog for a walk, and we were chased off the road by an angry nanny goat. She was pissy as all get-go.

Anyway, I hope all of you are having a great day, and that the stress of holiday shopping isn't getting the best of you. Oh, and as far as the Holiday Challenge goes, I'm going on record here to say I'm gonna have a kick-ass week! Happy December, everyone!

Not Such a Smooth Move

I've been having issues with, ahem, the potty of late. To say I have been irregular would be an understatement. Four days since a real poop, if I'm being honest, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm not a big fan of laxatives, so I sought out an herbal remedy. I bought myself some hot tea, Smooth Move. OK I'm sorry, that name is just gross. But I bought a box yesterday, and was in such a hurry to get down to business that I failed to read the instructions. Or rather, I read them and ignored them. Bad idea. There is a reason they tell you to drink this stuff before going to bed. I assume they hope that you are in a deep sleep before your insides begin turning out, in an effort to move things along. Rough night, let me tell you. Holy cramps, Batman! Yes, the stuff works. Boy does it ever. God help me.

On the band front, my port incision infection is much better. I have a follow-up appointment with my surgeon on Thursday. I don't think I'll get a fill, although he mentioned last time that he thought I might need one (minimal loss since previous visit). We'll see, but I think I'm good if I can keep my head straight. That really is the hardest part with this, isn't it?

For the Holiday Challenge, I reported a paltry loss of 1.2 lbs, which was disappointing since I had been down almost four pounds earlier in the week. I'm hoping this Smooth Move will help me get back on track.

Dinner Plans....Gulp!

I believe I have mentioned before that my husby works for a family business, which is built around a medical practice management software program. It just so happens that they have a significant presence in the bariatric surgery market (and it is quite likely that many of your surgeon's use the software). Anyway, this week, Raintree is hosting a Technical Training Seminar for a group of surgeons based in the 90210 (Beverly Hills, for those of you who didn't grow up with Brenda and Brandon Walsh). This happens to be one of Steve's favorite clients (I think he has a man-crush on their Ops Manager). So, this evening, we're taking said client to dinner (one surgeon, the ops manager and an IT guy), and I stupidly agreed to go. Oh, and by the way, Steve has told [at least] the ops mgr about my surgery. Dining with a bariatric surgeon and his entourage? WHAT WAS I THINKING? What if I get stuck? You know they are going to watch me eat, and pay attention to my every move. I got online and checked out the menu, so I can be an informed diner, but I have major anxiety about this whole ordeal. I think it's too late to back out. Or is it?

Still Alive But Still Infected

So, I'm doing OK. I still have this blasted infection at my port site. I saw my surgeon on Tuesday, and he put me on yet another round of antibiotics, this time for 10 days. He said if this doesn't take care of it, we need to talk about a quick surgery to clean things up at the port incision, whatever that means. I did ask if this meant general anesthesia, and he told me I would just go under twilight sleep, like with my endoscopy. Other than that, not too much news on the band front. I had lost only 1.5 lbs in the four weeks since I last saw him, but this infection and pain has curbed by exercise, so I know that is a big factor. Who am I kidding? I have eaten a ton of Halloween candy over the past two weeks--that's why.

Not much else to share. I was watching my niece and nephew last week, as my husband's family business had a conference in Chicago; this means I had them over Halloween Week. God bless all you working mothers out there....I don't know how the heck you juggle those schedules. Spirit Week at Evie's school meant a series of "crap-we-need-to-find-you-a-camouflage-outfit/favorite-literary-character-costume/crazy-socks/crazy- hair-something-to-wear" moments. Also, my nephew Michael is 12, and is really struggling in school. He is so bright, but has a real lack of focus. Plus, sixth grade math is HARD! My biggest laugh of the week came when Evie told me that one of her friends at school told her that trick-or-treating was really about worshiping the devil. Evie said "But I told her, it's really not about devil worship. It's just about having a good time and getting some candy".

The family arrived home on Saturday night, so I did not take the kids out trick-or-treating. We live out in the boonies, and don't get any costumed visitors from the 'hood, so I always make my nieces and nephew stop by...

This shot is of nephew & niece Michael & Evie and their parents (my BIL & SIL) plus three Estonians, who experienced American trick-or-treating for the first time:



This one is is of nieces Katie and Elisabeth (kids of my husband's other brother). The poses are totally unsolicited:


Oh, I opted in on the Holiday Challenge. I hope I wasn't too late! I love me some competition!

Thousand Word Thursday, On Friday

This week's topic for Thousand Word Thursday from Amy of Babbles of a Bandster is:
Your favorite place where you live (your house, your town, whatever you choose to define as "where you live") - the place where you relax, recenter, regroup. Show us and tell us why it's YOUR place!

Notice The Terribly Adorable Pup at the Bottom of the Photo

So, this is my Mecca on The Compound. Husby and I have enjoyed many a sunset here, and really enjoy the serenity of country living. Truth be told, I fancy myself more of a City Girl, and when we moved to the Temecula Wine Country in 2008, Steve had to drag me, kicking and screaming.

Wanna know a secret? Neither Steve nor I are smokers, but every once in a while we sneak a couple of ciggies, and smoke them in these chairs. It's kind of dangerous, because, as you may recall, we live on what is lovingly referred to as The Welty Compound. One of these days, we're gonna get busted by a family member dropping by, unexpected. We are such rebels. Crazy, I tell ya.

Whew!

Well, I had the Upper GI Endoscopy yesterday, and the results came back normal, so my band has not eroded, thank God. The procedure was easy-squeezy, and only lasted about 5 minutes, although I was doped up for about 30 minutes, and have no recollection of the procedure. That whole "conscious sedation" gig is quite a trip. When I told the husby that I would be in a "twilight sleep", he gave himself a license to make some really stupid vampire jokes. All. Day. Long.

They were great at the La Jolla Endoscopy Center, but there was kind of a funny moment when they wheeled me from the pre-op area to the procedure room. I went in head first on the gurney, and the receiving RN said to me, "You're here for a colonoscopy?", and I said, "Nope, an upper endoscopy". They quickly did a 180 with my gurney.

So, even though the erosion has been ruled out, we still do not know the cause of the infection and hematoma. I started a series of antibiotics, and we'll see how it reacts. There was some mention of a surgery to relocate my port, but I will exhaust all other options before taking that step. Not a big fan of the whole general anesthesia thing. But, the elimination of the erosion possibility gives us time to figure this out. For now, I am oh-so-relieved.

Freaking Out A Bit

I think I have mentioned in the past that I have had occasional pain at my port site, near or around the incision. My surgeon has put me on antibiotics on two occasions, to address the issue, which usually manifests itself with an ugly bruise and some swelling at the incision. All my other incisions healed so nicely, and have pretty much disappeared, but this damn port site has given me nothing but trouble. Sometimes it is worse than others, but it has never been unbearable--only painful to pressure or when I stretch it, usually exercising or...well, you know (wink, wink). Well, it had actually been doing well for the past month or so, and the scar seemed to be disappearing a bit. Until I got a fill just over a week ago. I am always tender there after a fill, for whatever reason, and this time was no exception. Except, in the days following, the incision area began to bruise & fill with blood, seemingly worse than ever. Again, tenderness, but not awful. Well, this morning I was in Aqua Aerobics, and the sprints were causing me pain, so much so that I had to hold the port area to offer support. I called the surgeon's office to get me in, and they had availability at 1:15. I was not overly concerned, but wanted him to check it out. Well, his reaction totally freaked me out. It went something like...."Let's have a look. OH MY GOD, that is NOT GOOD. This is very serious, Jennifer! This is so very different that when I saw you last week. We need to schedule you for an Endoscopy immediately to ensure the band hasn't eroded". He whipped out his cell phone right there and called a Gastroenterologist colleague, and asked him to consult with me today and squeeze me in first thing tomorrow for the procedure. Dr. B. said I don't have other symptoms of an erosion, but that we need to rule that out and do so quickly. And of course when I got home, I got online and can't find a lot of other reasons for the port infection other than erosion, so now I'm totally freaked. If the band is eroded, it will need to be removed immediately. Want to see a picture of the swollen nastiness? If not, close this entry now. And please wish me luck for tomorrow!

Seriously, More Pictures Needed!

Well, I imagine some of you BOOBs are still traveling, while others may be jet-lagged, but I have been checking in every hour or so for more pictures and tales of your weekend romp, and I really do need more, if you don't mind! I'm so glad you all had a blast. I found myself secretly nervous and excited for you, and sure hope I can join in the reindeer games next time around. I'm actually going to The Windy City in a few weeks (tagging along on a business trip with the Hubs), and can assure you my time there will be filled with thoughts of all you crazy ladies painting that town red.

On the band front, I saw my surgeon on Thursday, and he was pleased with my progress (6.5 more lbs, for a total of 76 lost). He said he could "go either way" on the fill, and wanted me to make the decision. I decided to have him "give me a small fill". Afterward, I asked how much he gave me, and he told me .5ccs, which to me seems pretty significant. Interestingly, I do not feel any more restricted, and I almost think I feel less so. Maybe Dr. B. pulled a fast one on me, and when he said he could "go either way", maybe he meant that literally, and went the other way. Anyway, I'm hanging tight (but not really), and will see how this month pans out.

This morning, I went for a swim at the gym, and during my first lap, I caught sight of a band-aid at the bottom of the pool. I switched lanes immediately, but could not stop obsessing about that damn band-aid, catching a glimpse of it in my peripheral vision each time I passed by. Exercise is not for wimps, but I'll keep on keepin' on.

Until next time, tootles!

Don Draper, Disney & Port Pain

I love Don Draper. He is one sexy, smokin' sonofabitch. I just had to say that. If you don't watch Mad Men, you should. If you do, you undoubtedly agree with me.

So, I was a naughty girl this weekend. I met two of my college roommates for a mini-reunion at Disneyland yesterday. Actually, we met at Downtown Disney, and did not go into the park(s). The libations were flowing, however, and I drank more than my share of liquid calories. Vodka mixes so nicely with so many sweet flavors: simple syrup, grenadine, pineapple juice...but I digress. It's amazing how you can get together with a good friend you haven't seen in years (15+ in the case of Amy), and pick up right where you left off. Here's a photo of the three of us:

Thank God for my friend Sandi's cascading hair, huh? Wonder what the server who took the picture was thinking. I'm also not sure what's going on with my arm (I don't think I have fat rolls on my tri-cep).

I've been having some significant pain at my port site for the past two days. This has happened a few other times since my surgery, and it eventually subsides, but I have never figured out the cause. The best way for me to describe it is that it's like a stinging sensation, like I'm pulling sutures out of a muscle. I know I don't have stitches, so I don't know what to think, except that it seems to be induced by either exercise or overeating. Last time this happened, my surgeon gave me antibiotics, but I'm not convinced that I had an infection or that the antibiotics are what caused the pain to eventually go away. I remember reading on someone's blog that the hard lump just above my port incision is not, in fact, the port, but rather scar tissue. I'm not sure if this is the case or not, but that hard lump is definitely the site/source of the pain. Have any of you Lovelies had a similar experience?

Princesses and Flying Horses

Through a colleague of my husband's, we have partnered with many friends in "adopting" an Army Ranger Unit stationed in the remote, rural hills of Afganistan. We chose this particular unit because we got word that they are in particularly difficult conditions and a very perilous location, with limited supplies and access to any real creature comforts (i.e. water for personal hygiene). Last week, Steve received an email from the Sgt. of the unit, and it really touched my heart:

"I wanted to say thank you for all of the packages; the guys all enjoy having snacks and magazines. I would have sent you an actual letter but as it is we get most of our resupply via air drop so its hard to send letters back to the post office. I was reading a card from Sandi E. and she mentioned that she could only get her daughter to draw princesses and flying horses. Its been particularly difficult for us these past couple of weeks and all I could think was how much we could use some more princesses and flying horses around here. Thank you again for all of the support."

I know this has absolutely nothing to do with the band, but man, it really pulled at my heart strings, and I wanted to share it with you.

New Low: A License to....EAT?

I was so stoked on Saturday morning. I went to the gym for Aqua Fit class, and weighed myself before diving in (I only weigh in at the gym, as they have one of those balancing scales which I have calibrated with my surgeon's scale, in my mind). I saw a new low of 261, which tickled my fancy. I'm only 6 lbs. away from my wedding weight, which was kind of an unwritten big goal for me (80 lbs down, but also a time when I felt pretty good). I also have some weird fantasy about putting on my dress and veil and seducing my hubby, but it's only in my mind....Anyway, I was feeling great, and then I got home, and I guess my sub-conscious decided to celebrate without my permission.

Now, we had company this weekend (one on my husband's USNA college roommates). Off topic, there is something about academy living that forges remarkable life-long friendships and Steve has the most amazingly close-knit group of friends. I think it has something to do with sharing the agony of Plebe Summer. But I digress.... So, guy-company means pizza and beer and wings and things, not even food that I'm overly fond of. But, alas, I chose to enjoy some leftovers when I wasn't even hungry. I ate too much on Saturday and Sunday, including pizza, carne asada, cookies and ice cream, but don't know what the damage is, scale-wise. I see my surgeon two weeks from today, and it's kind of a big deal to me to show a decent loss each month. I think I want him to be proud of me, as weird as that sounds. Failure is not an option, so I need to stay focused these next two weeks, so I'll get a big 'atta girl' hug from Dr. B!

Thousand Word Thursday

OK, how fun is this (Thanks Amy!)?

If by any chance you haven't heard, Amy came up with this great idea to post a picture to describe the topic of the week. This week's topic:

"Let's celebrate our own beauty and how wonderful we all look with a photo of your favorite feature on your own body".

My first thought was that I like my skin. It's been good to me over the years: limited wrinkles, tans nicely, rarely burns, no breakouts to speak of. But then I thought it would be weird to take or crop a picture of my skin. So, I'm going with smile. People tell me I have an infectious laugh and smile, so I'm going with that.

Below is a cropped photo from my wedding, as well as the original, for context. I'm sure I Crest-White-Stripped before that day, so my teeth kind of look eerily bright in the black & white shot.

Wow, That Was Embarrassing!

It's been about 8 weeks since my last band adjustment (I was denied a fill early August, because I mentioned to my surgeon that I had experienced a couple of "stuck episodes"). For whatever reason, my [yet unnamed] band seems to have tightened up over the past week or so, and I have been getting stuck more often than not when I eat solids. Yesterday was very busy, and I did not have a chance to eat a real dinner before heading out to Zumba, so I grabbed an apple (literally off the tree), and ate it very slowly, chewing very carefully, as I drove to the gym. It went down just fine, and I headed into class with my thermos of G2 fruit punch (read: bright, bright red). Anyway, I was Zumbing along, and got pretty parched about 20 minutes in, so I grabbed my thermos and took a swig. Not good. I felt the liquid pool in my throat, and knew I had to excuse myself to bring it back up, for lack of a better term. (Incidentally, I also decided I could use my exit as an excuse to move to another part of the room, because the girl next to me had really bad B.O.--How do people not realize when they stink like that?) Anyway, I hurried toward the restroom, unsure if I would make it, when I spotted a drinking fountain much closer, and decided to dump the G2 there (please don't judge me). Well, horror of all horrors, not only did I expel a boat load of bright red liquid, but dozens of mini apple chunks as well. I panicked! I tried to shove them down the drain, but the holes in the drain-catch were too small. I had nothing to wipe it up with, so I just started to scoop the mess into my hand as quickly as possible. I got most all of it, but was struggling with the tiny pieces, so I decided to grab a paper towel from a nearby dispenser, and wipe down the drain. I turned around to grab one, and saw that there was a guy waiting behind me for a drink. I'm pretty sure he saw the whole chunk collection and wondered what the hell I was doing. I just wondered what the hell I was thinking. I made my walk of shame to the restroom where I finished my business. When I made it back with a paper towel, it was all cleaned up.

Gift Card Obsession: A Peek Inside My Psyche

I love gift cards. I know some say they are an impersonal gift, but I disagree. What finer gift is there than the freedom to buy what you want, when and where you want it? I like to maximize my gift card value by holding out for a good sale, or a value-added coupon. Now, on with the story: Many years ago, I purchased a $50 gift card for my niece, to a place called Club Libby Lu--it was a little girls' dress up & makeover place and retail store. Well, before I was able to give it to her, I misplaced the card, and ended up buying her an alternate gift. Imagine my surprise to find said gift card a couple of weeks ago, in the side pocket of a purse I pulled out of the closet. I got online and found that Club Libby Lu went out of business in early 2009 (and my niece has since turned 13--a bit too old for CLL fun, even if available). Well, I noted on the site that Club Libby Lu had been owned by Saks Fifth Avenue, so just for kicks, I called the 800 number on the card. To my delight, I was told that they would be happy to reissue a Saks card to replace the defunct CLL card....YES! So, I received my replacement card for Saks, but was disappointed to find that the Saks in San Diego closed shop in May. Well, yahoo, I remembered our Vegas plans, and sure enough, there is a Saks at the Fashion Show Mall, right across from our hotel--KISMET! Now, believe you me, the I am well aware that $50 at Saks is not exactly a goldmine, but I was still excited to get some use of that long-lost card, even if it meant buying a simple pair of earrings or a fancy lipstick. Anyway, if you read my previous entries, you know that my husby took the Estonians to Zion prior to this Vegas stint, and he took my car, where I had staged the gift card. I drove out last night with my brother and sister-in-law, and met Steve at our hotel just after 10pm. Yesterday afternoon, I called him, and asked him to grab the gift card and bring it into the room, so I could make a jaunt to the mall Saturday morning. After he teased that I "might be able to get a pair of socks at Saks with the card", he agreed to bring it to the room. So, I arrive last night, tired from the drive, and make my way to our room. First thing Steve says is "Do you want the good news or the bad news?". OH. NO. [I always choose bad news first, in order to curb disappointment with a high note]. So, he tells me that he lost the card--WHAT? Apparently, he took a cab to the other end of The Strip, and it must have fallen out of his pocket. Instant downer. So bummed. So, the good news? He won the value of the card back playing blackjack, and gave me the cash. Meh. Sorry, not the same. I kept thinking that he would have won the money playing blackjack anyway, and so it did not offset my utter disappointment. And I can not stop obsessing about it. Maybe he just misplaced the card? No, it's lost, he assures me. Maybe someone turned it in to the hotel Lost & Found? Doubtful. I think Steve's exact reply was "Seriously Jen, are you going to obsess about the stupid card all weekend?". Ouch. But the answer is, yes. It was the first thing on my mind when I woke up at [gasp!] 6am this morning. Maybe I'm a little nuts, but I needed to get this off my chest, and I knew you'd listen!

While The Cat Is Away....

Husband took the Estonians for a little jaunt to Utah as of Wednesday, to visit Zion & Bryce National Parks. Then, I'm meeting them in Vegas tonight for a weekend in Sin City. I had planned to make the National Parks leg of the trip, but we had dog care issues (we are unable to board our very neurotic Yorkie, or else he goes on a food & water strike, throws up and ends up dehydrated--ask me about that vet bill sometime). Our trusty dog watchers/good friends were not available until today, so I stayed back. How did I spend my free time? Well, I had a Real Housewives of New Jersey & DC Festival, of course! Now you know how very sophisticated I am. I don't indulge in that very often, but when I'm on my own, I can't help watching that train wreck.

On the band front, I have had a definite step-up in stuck episodes, which concerns me a bit, because while I am satiated after eating, it does not last until the next meal. I went to see my surgeon yesterday, for what I hoped to be my fourth fill, but after I told him of these episodes, I was DE-NIED. Doctor knows best, right? He said he has seen too many patients resort to bad-for-you sliders and gain weight when too tight, so he wants to give me a month to loosen up. Now I'm worried that I'll never find my [thus far elusive] sweet spot. He did offer to write me a prescription for an appetite suppressant to get me through this rough spell. Say what??? I took it, but don't know if I'll have it filled....

Anyway, I'm off to Vegas, Baby! The nerd that I am booked a non-gaming, non-smoking fancy hotel, but now the wild child in me is jonesing for a seedy, smoky, booze-laden casino-hotel. We'll see who wins out, and I'll report back. Until then....

Flour Tortillas Are Not My Friend

Can we all agree that it's too stinking hot to turn on the oven? Well, I refuse, so if anyone in my house wants anything hot, it's either going to be nuked or stove-topped. My brother spent the night last night, and when I gave him his lunch options today, he chose a chicken quesadilla. I put it together for him and browned it on the stove. Mmmmm....it smelled mighty delish, so I decided to make myself a modified, smaller version. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I chewed that sucker to death, but somehow, in my pouch, all the tiny tortilla particles must have decided to join back together and form little balls of dough. And I use the term "little" loosely. MF-SOB, we're talking 45 minutes of excruciating pain, followed by waves of nausea and then vomiting up dough balls & dough pellets. While I was grossed out, I couldn't help but be intrigued by the perfectly round and/or cylindrical pellets I coughed up. Lesson learned: Tortillas are now playing for the other team, and are not welcome on my plate.

This weekend, we went to The Magic Castle in Hollywood, for my nephew's birthday. We did the Sunday brunch gig, as this is the only time tykes are allowed in. It's a super fun place, but I must say the weekend nights are better than the day shows. Top notch magicians perform at various venues around the castle, which is a private club built in 1908, for this purpose. They say you have to "know someone who is a member" to get on the guest list, but truth be told, you can also get on the list by reserving a room at the adjacent [not so cheap] Magic Castle Hotel (sort of a racket, if you ask me). Anyway, despite the 'fine dining' billing, the brunch was just average, so I was able to avoid temptation, and stick with some healthier options.

A More-Than-Fair Fare to Chicago

In case any of you So-Cal Hotties who are headed to The Windy City still need a plane ticket, check out this deal.

Family Game Night & Dangerous Treats

On Saturday, we had family BBQ & pool party at my SIL's, follwed by game night at our place (remember, the family that plays together stays together). We had a hoot playing Apples to Apples (so much fun for a big group). That is, until my 13-year-old niece read one of her cards, and asked [out loud] "Could you still be alive if you were born in 1965?" Say what?!? Suddenly, a cloud of depression covered the room, so I sent everyone home (TRICK!).

Anyway, I try not to keep sweets in the house, but everyone wanted dessert (and I certainly wasn't going to bake in this heat), so I had a stellar idea to pick up an assortment of Weight Watchers Ice Cream Novelties (sort of like my own little ice cream truck, but not so naughty, and without all the carbon emissions). Anyhoo, as usual, I over-bought (and everyone under-ate) so I am left with several boxes of treats, which are calling my name from the garage fridge. So far I have been good, but man, those ice cream candy bars are simply delectable, and definitely a slider. I should have had everyone take a box home, but didn't think about it. I would send them to work with the husby, but he'd undoubtedly leave them to melt in his back seat. So I think I need to toss them. Or not.

My First BYOC Stint....Here Goes....

1. Do you remember your last dream?
Vividly....In my dream, I ran into some former colleagues and they invited me on a trip to Hawaii, as one of them had access to a huge villa there. I was so excited, and invited my hubby, only to later find out that it was a girls-only trip and I had to un-invite him--I felt just awful. Then I found out that we had to row there across the Pacific, which was an even bigger bummer and made me want to cancel all together.

2. Which is your favorite body part of the human body and why?
I'm a big fan of a good mouth/smile. I don't necessarily like perfectly straight teeth--I prefer a bit of character in a smile, whether it be a gap or a bit of overlap (a la Tom Cruise, although he and his couch-bouncing annoy me).

3. Tell me about your first kiss...
I was 14, and my friend Tammy invited some boys from The Army/Navy Academy (a local military prep high school) to her house. One boy, Mark Alcalay, chased me around her garage and when he caught me, he shoved his tongue down my throat. He had sour breath.

4. How big is your bed?
Cal-King. I like my space at night (and in the day, for that matter).

5. Repeat question....whose blog or comment stuck with you the most this week and why?
Joey's....just so heartfelt and heartbreaking.

Mission Accomplished

Hello Lovely Ladies! Can you tell me how many adjustments it took for you to find your "sweet spot"? I finally got fill number four yesterday, guided by fluoroscope (wow what an ordeal!), and am hoping for some real restriction now. After I arrived at the surgery center, I had to go through all the pre-op standard operating procedures (pun not intended, but delightful just the same)....After over an hour of those shenanigans, I went into the OR for my 5 minute "procedure", then was wheeled to post-op, where I waited for another hour, hooked up to monitors, etc., before being discharged. Sheesh, what a pain. The staff there is so nice, but I find it difficult to reciprocate the kindness when I am so agitated with the process. My surgeon apologized for all the theatrics, but said the ASC follows the same protocol for all procedures. Anyhoo, thankfully my port has not flipped, but it has turned a bit, and is at a 90* angle. At least now Dr. B. knows from what angle to enter, and hopefully my future adjustments will be smooth as silk, sans fanfare.

I'm soooo tired....Husby had to leave the house at 3:45 this morning, to [supposedly] catch an early flight to Sioux Falls, South Dakota (AKA Partyland, USA). Before retiring last night, I had to pack his suitcase (I know what you're thinking: I'm an awesome wife)....It was a one-night trip, so he did not want to check a bag, but I was unsure if he could carry on a razor, so I checked the TSA web site. I must say, I find it perplexing that one can carry on "metal scissors with pointed tips and blades shorter than four inches in length", but not a sealed container of yogurt. Anyway, we hit the hay early (10pm) were awoken (awakened?) at 12:05am by the phone (DH's company has an office in Estonia, and we were expecting two Estonian girls to arrive TONIGHT, but someone messed up on that memo, because they arrived at LAX at 11:45 LAST NIGHT, and no one was there to pick them up). After he made some troubleshooting calls, I finally fell back asleep only to be awoken (awakened?) AGAIN at 1:15am, with another call about the girls and some keys we have for them. I didn't bother trying to go back to sleep, as I just laid there in anticipation of Steve's pending 3:00am alarm. Here's the kicker: He just arrived back home (SURPRISE!!!), as his flight was canceled due to faulty hydraulics on the plane [not a huge fan of Delta]. Oh, and the Estonians are on their way....more on that later. Tootles for now!

Life on the Compound (cue banjo music)

I realize that I have not really told you all much about myself yet, and am not really sure where to start. Here's a weird factoid that might make you run for the hills: I live on a compound. It's not quite as creepy as it sounds, but two years ago, my husband and I relocated from Carlsbad, a nice little beach town in San Diego County, to rural Temecula wine country (just north of San Diego), and we live within close proximity to all of my husband's family. Now, close proximity is a relative term in the country (pun intended), but let's just say that the Welty motto is: "The Family That Works/Plays/Lives/Dines/Parties/Invests Together Stays Together". The Welty Compound includes my father-in-law (MIL died of ovarian cancer in 2008, at the age of 60), as well as my husband's older sister and two older brothers and their families (and me & Steve). Everyone (except us) has golf carts to get from property to property, we have a huge garden where we grow lots of fresh fruits & veggies to share, and my FIL loves to give tractor rides to unsuspecting compound visitors. [OK, maybe it is as creepy as it sounds]. But for reals, we are actually pretty normal, and do not belong to some weird cult or stockpile guns and ammo for the pending revolution. My husband's oldest brother, Richard, is the family prodigy and a total computer genius; 26 years ago, when Richard was 17, an MD neighbor of theirs hired him to develop a billing & scheduling platform for his medical practice, and Raintree Systems was incepted. It's actually kind of a neat success story with some interesting caveats, but too much to share now. Anyway, all the siblings work at the corporate office, which is here in Temecula, and hubby was sick of the commute from Carlsbad, so we made the move. I am slowly adjusting to country living....It's really quite beautiful here, and we are literally walking distance to some of the area's best wineries, cha-ching!

Here are a couple of shots of our property as well as one of the Welty Clan (See, no bonnets or aprons). My hubby is at the far end of the table.

I'm Not Worthy!

Woot woot, I have 10 followers! That's just super! Thanks to those of you who have taken the time to read by blog thus far. I really enjoy reading yours, and find the interaction so informative, inspiring, and often times you make me laugh out loud, or cry like a baby. Husby thinks I'm nuts when I do either, but that's another issue.

OK, just for fun here's a cute picture of my FIL's dog, Maggie. What dog climbs a tree, you ask? Sweet Maggie, that's who!

Nope. Nil. Nada.

I met with my surgeon today for what I hoped would be my fourth fill. Boo....He could not access my port. After two unsuccessful jabs, he (and I) felt / heard a clink--metal on metal--oh crap! So, now he wants to do it under fluoroscope at the surgery center (I did not have my surgery in a hospital like most of you--rather, it was done at an Ambulatory Surgery Center or ASC). It's kind of a pain, because his office and the ASC are both is in La Jolla, and it's about an hour and 15 minute drive from where I live. My first fill was tough as well, and he had to delay two weeks because I had some bruising at my port site, so he gave me a cycle of antibiotics. My biggest fear is that the port has flipped, but he said this is "unlikely". [Please, oh please, oh please do not make me go in for corrective surgery!] So, the surgeon's MA called the ASC to schedule my appointment, and a gal from the ASC in turn called me to coordinate the details, telling me that 1) I will need to arrive 1.5 hours before the procedure--say what? 2) I can not eat after midnight before the procedure--OK, fine, but why? 3) Then, the gal asked me if I was having general or local anesthesia--at that point, I got a little bit pissy. "Do you understand that I am only having a saline injection, guided by fluoroscope?" She did not comprehend, so I called the surgeon's office to gripe to the MA, and will let her explain to the numb-skull at the ASC (OK, I know that's not nice, but come on, you should be familiar with the procedure your facility performs, no?). I do not want to leave my house at O'Dark:30 for an 8am appointment (immediately following a lap band surgery by Dr. Bhoyrul). Anyway, I'm slightly annoyed, pretty nervous and majorly anxious for this to be done. Oh, and I'm hungry and I want a spoonful of frosting.

The Gallon Club & The Tooth Fairy

I went to a blood drive today, and this donation brought me into the American Red Cross Gallon Club! As I was squeezing my fist to fill up my bag, my first thought was "How cool it is that one pint can help up to three people?" My second thought was, "I wonder how much a pint of blood weighs, and if there is any weight loss involved here?". Lame, I know. Anyway, I feel good regardless.

On the band front, I feel like I'm in no-man's land. I'm not sure I know how to clearly define "restriction". My band has made its presence known, as I have had several "stuck" episodes, but I am rarely full after 1/2 cup or even one cup of food. Even if I do get full on a small meal, it sure doesn't last until the next one. I'll have to chat with my surgeon, as I know he thinks I am doing well, and I sense he is hesitant to fill me up more. But, man, it's tough to stay disciplined, and I need some help!

OK, here's a cute story for you....My six-year-old niece Evelyn lost a tooth while on vacation in Hawaii. At the airport on their way home, her mom found the tooth in her purse, and her dad said "Evie, I'm sorry, we forgot to put your tooth under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy". Without missing a beat, Evelyn replied "Maybe the Tooth Fairy just put the money right in Mommy's wallet".

Turns Out I Can Still Pack It In.

I went down to San Diego this morning to help my brother out with some personal business, and decided to take him to lunch afterward. Well, I was totally craving Souplantation, which I knew was a risk, seeing as they are an all-you-can-eat salad and soup restaurant, but they definitely have healthy options (if you can manage to steer clear of their pasta bar and baked potato bar and homemade pizza and bread station and sundae bar). Anyway, I went in with the best of intentions. First, I downed a decent size salad, and then I made my way to the soup, where I dished up a small bowl of half turkey chili and half veggie soup; so far so good(ish). I should have stopped there, and had every intention of doing so. Instead, I had another bowl of soup. And then my brother came back to the table with a plate loaded with pizza and other breads, and I caved. I first picked out a tiny piece of pizza bread and enjoyed it immensely. So I grabbed another. And as I waited for him to finish, I had a clear view of the sundae bar, where men, women and children alike were creating lovely swirls of Ghirardelli yumminess. I asked my brother if the soft serve was ice cream or yogurt, and he told me it was yogurt--that was all I needed to hear! I was tickled to see that it was even fat-free dark chocolate or vanilla (or the much-sought-after swirl)....So I served myself up a small/medium bowl (it's yogurt, right?) and then proceeded to drench it in caramel sauce (it's fat-free, right?). And I ate the whole thing. And I felt just awful. I was mad at myself for caving, after being so disciplined all month. I was mad at my [yet unnamed] band for allowing me to eat all of that crap with no problem. As I drove home I thought about what I had done, and why. You see, my brother does not know about my band (he has some learning disabilities and would not be able to comprehend even a basic explanation). I think I used his not-knowing as a free pass to cheat, since it was only him and me. I also think I learned that I can not handle the temptation of an all-you-can-eat environment, even now. Maybe when I am eventually in "my zone", but not now.

So tonight, I will punish myself with a nasty protein shake for dinner. And tomorrow begins a new day.

Dragging My Ass to Zumba...

The good thing about going to Zumba with someone else is that I have someone to chat with between songs. The sucky part is that someone ALWAYS calls me the afternoon before class, guilting me into going (some would say that's a good thing, but I'm just "not there" yet). I sure want to love-love-love it like Gilly, but man, my knees kill me 20 minutes in! Part of the problem is that my cross-trainer shoes are too heavy and thick (those jazzy, low profile Zumba shoes are hard to find in stores and I hate ordering shoes online)--Does any one of my zero followers have a suggestion? The other part of the problem is that I am Booty-White-Girl with no rhythm. Sadly, my husband has THE MOVES, and I fear that sometimes he'd really like to cut a rug.

Alas, I'm coming to Zumba tonight, Dear Sister-in-Law.