Goddamn fajitas...

After eating those fajitas last night I was so pissed off and determined to make up for eating them that I did something I've dreamed of doing for months- I did two back to back Tae Bo sessions! Here's how it went down-

We got home from dinner around 8pm. Even though I didn't have any major muscular pain from the day before, I did have a few blisters and some of my joints were aching. I also knew that I had to get up at 5am the next day. But I was just mad enough that I didn't care about all that and started the first DVD around 8:45pm. After I finished the first one I was still in the mood to kick a**, so I started the second DVD right after that. Though it was in the back of my head to finish it, I didn't think I'd be able to, so I told Roy I only planned to do about 20 minutes of it. After awhile I realized that I always quit when I get tired, so I forced myself to keep going. Though I was pretty wiped out the last 10 minutes, I did finish it around 10:15...panting, covered in sweat from head to toe, but friggen euphoric that I had done it.

I have to admit, being able to do two fast-paced Tae Bo workouts back to back really surprised me. When I first started the workouts about 6 months ago, I could barely get through one. So to do both of them the day after a half-marathon was really icing on the cake. Like I said, I didn't plan it that way, really...the fajitas saw to that. I just know now that when I stumble (and I will), that I will make every effort to not go to bed that night without having tried to do something about it. Moping doesn't do sh*t (which is a bummer).

If you're wondering what effect these two physical accomplishments have had on my weight, well...let's just say it's a good thing I've learned not to panic as much by what the scale says. I've actually gained THREE pounds since the morning of race! Let's review...I ate well for two days...exercised my a** off twice...and gained 3 pounds. Wonderful! And people say weight loss is frustrating??? Naaaaaaw.

I am actually pretty sure the weight gain is from my body swelling/retaining fluid from the two strenuous workouts. I've noticed I have a tendency to do that, so I was emotionally prepared before I got on the scale. It's still quite a bummer though. I've had to learn not to punch the wall in frustration.

I had an epiphany at Curves tonight that will help me over the next few months to help ensure I stick to my goal of diversifying my workouts. I am going to start color coding them in my planner so that I can see at a glance when I am doing too much of a particular workout (told you I was anal). Otherwise trust me- it will not get done. I'm great at lip and not so great at follow through.

And finally, since this entry is all about achieving goals, I'll share one more. This one isn't my own, but it's better. My parents just celebrated their 35th wedding anniversay on Monday.

Congratulations Mom & Dad!!!

Anal people looooove action plans!

Here is one more photo from the race day with my brother Joseph. He was quite bitter about the fact that Roy got so many kudos yesterday and that he didn't, since as he claims-

a) He was one of the biggest people out there (quite true, but only because we all know how gaunt runners are...not that it was appropriate for him to constantly mutter about how half of them couldn't even fill out their spandex).

And b) While Roy may have carried a backpack, he claims he carried TWICE that amount around his waist, thighs and a**.

I do have to admit...these are very good points. So YES Joseph...you kicked ass too!

And now back to the blogging!

Tonight we went out to dinner at Chili's. Because I always order the lettuce wraps or veggie burger I decided to splurge and order something else. I settled on the fajtas thinking how bad can a few tortillas and some grilled chicken and veggies be? Apparently- PRETTY FU**ING BAD. Once I got home I calculated the three fajitas I ate to be oh, around 900 calories!!! SH**. And that's not counting the handful of fries I had off Roy's plate. So, uh...yeah. Whoops.

Moving on...I know that I have to develop a fresh new plan of attack for these last ten pounds. Because I am anal, I am if nothing else a woman of lists, plans, spreadsheets and schedules! So here is my plan:

1. Vary my exercises and make them challenging!

Like anyone else, I tend to get lazy. Though I generally muster enough willpower to drag myself to the gym each day, I tend to favor light, mindless workouts that don't really exert myself (making it easier to plateau). Therefore, I have set a goal to do each type of exercise at least once every week : Curves, regular gym weights, cardio (bike, elliptical), hills (on the treadmill)walking, jogging, hiking, aerobics and once it warms up a little more- swimming.

I also intend to make the workouts shorter, but a little more challenging, just to keep my body's metabolism from getting lazy. I will use the participants on the Biggest Loser as my inspiration. Whenever I see them panting, pouring sweat and crying through their workouts I will know how resilient the human body is, and that it it possible for me to do anything.

2. Expand my reading and time with my motivational journal.

I've been keeping a motivational journal for 10 months now. In it are quotes, ideas, suggestions, goals and thoughts that I've taken from the dozens of books, magazines and webpages I've read on diet, fitness and eating. Though I still use it religiously, I've long since stopped reading books on the topic because they started to get redundant. So I've moved on to reading books that focus more on personal memoirs and journeys. Last night I went onto Amazon and bought four books that do just that. I am confident that each one will offer me added insight that I can pen into my journal and keep me motivated.

3. Do a half-marathon six times a year (and increase my jogging).

There aren't a lot of these races throughout the year, I've only found 4 in Southern California so far (Carlsbad & Highland in Jan., La Jolla in Apr., and San Diego in Aug). If anyone knows of any others in So. Cal, please let me know! I really want to do La Jolla but they have a 2.5 hour race limit so it's really only for joggers (which clearly, I am not...yet). I am however, penciling in the San Diego race on August 14th since they have a 3-hour time limit and I know with more training, I can do it.

Though doing races is immensely preferrable (scenary, support, water stations, comeraderie), if I am unable to find one to do, I will continue do them on my own, once every other month. Just to stay in shape. Ideally I'd like to jog half of the race, working my way up. Chubby people don't become Ironmen in a day.

4. Walk the LA Marathon in March of 2007.

After we finished walking yesterday we contemplated how we would feel if we had to do the entire race again, and the consensus was, while we would of course be A LOT slower, that we could definitely do it. Though I'm not sure how or where I'll find the time to condition for that, I will. Even if I have to show up unprepared and come in near last (hey, I've done that before...yesterday as a matter of a fact), I'm going to do it.

5. Continue to eat about 1400-1600 calories per day.

I have found that if I eat any more I don't lose weight, but if I eat any less, my body slows down and I plateau. It's quite a science.

So that's it. That's the plan. I am pleased to note that I feel great today, no aches or pains other than a few minor blisters (I tape up to avoid them). It's probably because over the last two months I've now walked two half-marathons and two ten-mile walks, so my body is getting used to the distance. I've noticed that I tend to get achey around the same time (miles 9-10) but usually get my second wind soon thereafter once there is only a mile or two left to go. Did I mention that I actually jogged in the last mile yesterday? It was kinda neat. I had a surge of excitement at the final mile marker and decided to run it in. I passed a particular street sign twice that said "NO STOPPING" and both times I smiled inwardly because I kept thinking, "It's a message for me!"

Race Day: Don't f**k with Roy!!!

This is us post race! Our goal was to finish in under 3.5 hours (and of course, make roadkill out of Gertrude). So I'm very pleased to announce that we not only met our goal, but we did it in about 3 hours (14-minute miles)!!! YAY!

As for Gertrude...well, that's a sore point. Some old people are REALLY, REALLY spry you know.

Just kidding. I really wouldn't know. I never saw her. Which likely means she smoked us. We did pass a few other 'older participants' though (I'm guessing they were in their 60s), but really, is that something a young hipster should be bragging about?! Uh...HELL YEAH. I now have a very short list titled "People Whose A**es I Can Kick" and I definitely plan on adding 'the eldery' to it, right under 'young Cub Scouts.'

In all seriousness, today ranked right up there in terms of experiences I'll never forget. And as much as I enjoyed every single minute of it, anything I did absolutely paled in comparison to Roy. He stole the show. And in my eyes, he deserves all the accolades in the world.

First off, he worked very late last night and only got 4 hours of sleep. He's also had two knee surgeries that no longer allow him to run. At all. He's also been so busy with school and work that other than a few long walks together over a month ago, he hasn't walked or conditioned at all. And because we weren't sure how many aid stations there would be, he insisted on carrying a heavy backpack filled with lots of water, our sweats, first aid gear, camera, etc. (I carried it for 4 miles and absolutely hated it. It slowed/dragged me down considerably. That damn thing was heavy.

Joseph and I jogged about a fifth of the race together. And when we weren't jogging- our pace was very brisk. So we never actually walked with Roy for 99% of the race. Here's the amazing part- Roy finished the entire race one minute behind us. Without conditioning for it. Without jogging a step. On four hours of sleep. And with 15 pounds strapped onto his back.

To be quite honest, we could barely keep up with him! If we hadn't jogged, he would have smoked us. Everytime we would jog and pull ahead, we would turn around 10 minutes later only to see him walking furiously right behind us! We were absolutely floored. I couldn't have been more amazed. In the past I used to tease him because he would never run, but now I know better. He may not be able to run, but he will catch up with you!

Kung Hee Fat Choy!

Happy (Chinese) New Year!!!

...at least I think it's the Chinese New Year. I'm not too sure. I got a Blue Mountain card from my mother (who is half Chinese) this morning wishing me a Happy New Year so I'm guessing it's around now.

As you can see, my knowledge of the Chinese history and culture isn't exactly stellar. In fact if I had to summarize my entire exposure to the Chinese culture as a child it would have to be:

1. My brother(s) and I whining about having to eat Chinese food 3-4 times a year (we preferred McDonalds);

2. My brothers and I snottily holding our noses in the smelly Chinese grocery store that we went to once a year so my mother could get her sweet beef jerky and fried fish; and

3. Receiving little red envelopes bearing cash around Chinese New Year (we were cool with this one).

Years later as an adult I did go to China with Roy for a few weeks. And I have to say, it's definitely one of those countries that I know I'm going back to- mostly because I really want to go to Yunan and Tibet. I probably haven't mentioned this yet because, well...I'm modest, but I happen to have some very strong connections and ties to Tibet.

For one thing, the Dalai Lama and I are tight (I went to see him speak once and there's a good chance he might have seen me back in row 57 waving and smiling at him the whole time).

For another thing, we've both bravely stood up against China's oppressive political regime (I got yelled at for leaning on a glass wall of the Beijing Train Station by a police officer...but once he left, I did it again!) Take that you Communist bastards!!!

And finally, we both have some shared aquaintances (he shook Bobby Brown's hand once...and so did I).

So I'm pretty sure once we actually get to Tibet we're gonna be soooo hooked up. It's gonna be tight. Me and Mr. Lama. Kickin' it together just like the old days.

Yippieeeee!!!!

After eleven long wretched days of being the same weight, I have finally broke out of the plateau! And not a minute too soon. My god it was painful. This was the first time in ten months that I went more than 5-6 days without losing an ounce. So my current weight loss is...drumroll please...I have hit the big 4-0!!! I can scarcely believe it myself. And to celebrate this milestone? Oh I've got big plans, people...BIG plans. Such as? Well...ahem. Fine, I cannot lie...I won't do jack. We're poor right now. And I'm lame anyway.

For those of you (mom) who might be worried than I'm on my way to becoming the next Nicole Ritchie, fear not. You know how I know? Remember when I hit my original goal of losing 30 pouds? Well once I hit that a few months back I publicly declared (we all know I'm not good at subtleties) to all those around me (at last count, three coworkers I classify as 'friends' regardless of their wishes) that my new goal was to lose ten more. And this bold, brave declaration was met with...silence. We're not talking silence as in, "Oh dear God you're going to waste away if you do, please don't!!!" We're talking silence as in, "Yeeeaaaah...you could definitely stand to lose a few more. Specifically, in your lard ass...oh god did I say that out loud?!")

Now that I've lost those ten pounds, I have declared yet again that I still need to lose ten more. Again- total silence. Nothing but nods and murmurs of encouragement. Bastards.

So trust me, I am still far from sleek, skinny or thin. Even if I lose 10 more pounds (and truthfully, this is getting pretty iffy), my BMI will still barely be in the upper end of the 'healthy range" for my height/weight.

But lord almighty, once I do? You bet your ass I'm going be shopping at Forever 21 wearing some entirely inapproiate hot pink number meant for a 17-year old that makes me look like a grosteque, stuffed sausage! Hell yeah!

Me & Gertrude. We're in this together.

So the second Big Race is this Sunday. And unless I trip, fall and break something (only a 67% chance) , we're definitely doing this one. The race entries have been paid for, Roy doesn't work until the evening, and best of all- my granny waist pack just arrived from L.L. Bean (...and only three weeks late! The bastards!!!). So we're ready.

I'm really excited because this will be the first time I do a long walk that's not around the same circular route over and over again. I'm also a little nervous because there will be some hills (which I haven't prepared for). Plus, the Race Director keeps taunting me with the fact that there's some lady in her 80s named Gertrude who does the half marathon every year in decent time. Wonderful. I finally start doing these races, only to have blue-haired Gertrude trample over me at the finish. I really hope they capture that in my race finish photo for posterity.

So my race preparation thus far has been pretty much limited to talking about the race. I haven't actually walked a mile in almost two weeks. But what the heck. We start at 7:30am. I figure I've got ten hours of daylight and a flashflight. I'll finish. Besides, I'm sure Gertrude will be waiting for me at the finish with some wilted orange wedges she's saved for me.

A few more pictures of our trip!

This is the entry to the first tomb we went to in Giza.




The world famous sufi-dancers (whirling dervishes)!




This is Roy, my brother Joseph and I at the Pyramids of Giza. Yep. We're real funny.




This is the Roy and I at the last tomb at the Valley of the Kings. I'm smiling because...it's the last tomb at the Valley of the Kings. I was uh...(yawn) bored after the first two.



I usually take god-awful pictures, but I thought this one turned out nicely. This is the Isis Temple of Philae (which was once under the Nile but moved to higher ground). Because it's on an island, we took a small boat out to get to it.

Ever since we got back all I can think about is going back. I am one proud African-American. I've spent a few days pricing Kenya & Tanzania but egads. Even though they're not that far from Egypt it will cost us more than double to go there for half the time we were in Egypt (and that's if we camp most nights on safari rather than lodge). And really, I'm fine with the not bathing part (remember, I took 4 shirts with me on a three-week trip), it's the 'clumpy hair' that really freaks me out. When Roy & I rode the Tran-Siberian across Russia, there was a point where we didn't get to shower for three days. When we got off I had no individual strands of hair, all I had was one massive clump.

Anyway, I'm willing to sacrifice getting 'clumpy hair' again if it means I get to hike Mt. Kenya and the Serengeti (Tanzania). In fact, I'm already trolling Ebay for a Lonely Planet guidebook so I can start planning. Yippie! If anyone is up for a trip in early December, give me a holler!!!

Another month, another hike!

Today we went on a wonderful morning hike sponsored by our city. It was a moderate 6-mile hike in the hills just behind our home that led to an amazing view of a nearby lake. Our small ragtag group consisted of us, three high school buddies who all somehow managed to resemble Napolean Dynamite, and a Cub Scout troop chaperoned by a couple of sweet, rosy-cheeked den mother types (you know...like me).

Since the last big hike we went on I was that chubby person trudging in the back, trying desperately to control my obnoxiously loud panting, I was quite euphoric to find myself the leader of the pack this time...YEEAAAAH BABY!!! Now I know that I probably shouldn't be so proud of kicking the asses of a bunch of little 5-year old boys, but hey- I gotta take these victories where I can. So take that, you little Cub Scout b*^#hes!!! You want a piece of this?! Huh?! Huh!!!

Anyway, the hike itself was very enjoyable. We've gone on about 4-5 good hikes over the past few months in search of the 'perfect hike' and I think this one was it- it's a good distance, has a few steep hills but for the most part has a gradual, manageable climb, great views from the top, and most importantly- is conveniently close to home (2 miles). The only scary part occured while we were walking back down (we were alone at this point). We heard what we think was a low growl a few times about 30 yards ahead of us in the bushes. As soon as we heard it, Roy started making loud noises to try and scare it off, while I carefully calculated what lifesaving technique I would employ- which ended up being to freeze in terror (after all, I AM the plumper, juicier and slower selection of the two). In any case, it may all have been nothing as we eventually made it down without incident.

This has happenned to us once before when we were hiking around Devil's Tower Monument in Wyoming. I was doing my usual nonstop, self absorbed blathering and of course, heard nothing. But I do remember Roy suddenly grabbing my hand and picking up the pace. A minute later when he felt we were in the clear he confessed he'd heard a low, growling sound. This still freaked me out, and though it's much harder to tell when brown people turn white, I did. We both agreed to continue hauling ass out of there, and everytime we passed another hiker going in the opposite direction (maybe only one or two) I must ashamedly admit I was excited thinking that it would take a mountian lion at least 5 minutes to tear up their carcasses, thereby giving us a few more minutes to escape.

Oh, and I think I may have figured out my weight gain over the past week. I had been carefully eating about 1,500 - 1,700 calories a day, but realized I'd been subconsciously reducing my long walks (since Roy's been busy training at his new job) and instead, lifting a lot more (I've been excited about one of the gym's all new weight equipment). So there's a good possibility that I may have gained the half pound from that. Though it's still a bummer, I am much more at peace knowing the possible cause and what to do to get back on track (increase my cardio). Rather than continue to mope about it, I figure it's better to take action.

So yesterday I also bought all five of Jillian Michael's workout DVDs (the drill sargeant trainer from the Biggest Loser). I watched a snippet of her workouts on Amazon.com and read that her workouts are highly rated and do NOT involve ridiculously difficult dance moves. I'm also in the process of getting The (original) Step again. I had one about 9 years ago and loved it. I'm hoping to add these two 'new workouts' to shape things up a little and keep me motivated.

I've learned that aside from all of my weekly efforts being like having another part-time job, it is also a serious financial committment. Between the gym memberships, increased grocery costs (for fresher produce and healthier eating options), race entry fees, work out clothes, DVDs, hand weights, a good hiking backpack, shoes, books, magazines and miscellaneous things like my pedometer, MP3 player and waist pack- it all really adds up. Of course it's worth it, but I guess I just hadn't realized when I started this all that it would take up so much time, effort and money!

The Lift I Needed

(We just got our pictures back from Winkflash. I really like this one of us. Roy has lost a whopping 20 pounds himself!)

We're heading back to Hawaii soon, so I've really tried to kick my diet and exercise plan into high gear so I can shed a few more pounds before we're there in two weeks. I know I've mentioned here before that every single time I've seen my grandmother for the last 3-4 years she's greeted me with a loud cry of "OH MY GOD YOU GOT FAT!" To make matters worse, she tends to screech this out in an ear-shattering volume that even all of her hard-of-hearing neighbors a hundred yards away end up turning around to see who the tubby visitor is (and no doubt, to quickly hide their Jolly Ranchers and coffee candy).

I don't know who will be happier about not having to hear her say that...me or Roy (since he knows whenever he hears it he's going to have stroke my hair and comfort me for at least two hours later that evening- "Forget what she said Josie! You're NOT fat! She's just a clueless, bitter old woman who... Wait! I didn't mean to call your grandma clueless and bitter! What I meant to say is that she should learn to THINK before she opens her goddamn f&%ing mouth- and uh...whoops...nevermind. Here, have a Ding Dong!")

So for the past week I've been exercising diligently, eating well and drinking plenty of water. However, every single morning for the past five days I've been surprised and disapointed to not only have not lost an ounce, but to have actually gained a half pound. ??????? *#&^!!! @*$*!!!

Since I'm already in danger of losing my membership card to the Japanese race for being so manic and sassy, why not add impatient to that list? I can honestly say I don't think I've ever hit a true plateau before. Usually when I've gained weight in the past it's because I've done something to deserve it- like inhale a bag of buttery movie theatre popcorn. But in this case, I don't understand it. All I know is that every morning I wake up, excitedly hurry over to my scale, and inevitably end up walking away- dejected, confused and sad.

Say it with me folks- Awwwww....

Because this was the fifth morning in a row that I repeated this sad routine (part of the reason I haven't written anything for a few days), even all of my half-hearted attempts to cheer myself up by trying to focus on the 'bright side' and feel good about what I've accomplished thus far fell on deaf, stubborn ears. So I dejectedly drove off to work, slowly shuffled into my office and threw myself into my chair to sulk for the rest of the day.

A few minutes later I had to walk through the lobby for something when a coworker (usually a brusque, "all-business" type of woman) glanced at me, stared at me inquisitively for a second, and then declared, "You're withering away. You'd better take it easy. Everything in moderation!" and then quickly walked away before I could say a word. No more than a minute later, another coworker I only see about once a month walked by and whispered, "You look great!" Because the person I was talking to overheard him say this, she then took a second look at me and then said, "She really does!" A few hours later another employee I also rarely see gave me my fourth compliment of the day.

I couldn't believe it. I had just been moping melodramatically all morning and then out of the blue-four people had complimented me in a span of a half day! I would like to say their words put me on cloud nine and I danced and waltzed my way back to my office, but A) I'm Japanese...we don't let loose unless someone drops a roofie in our drink; and B) I still have serious 'weight issues,' which mean that as much as I crave compliments, I automatically dismiss them as "people just trying to polite".

Nonetheless, I am really trying to learn something from today. Which I think is- even if I am not losing weight and feeling fat, I am not giving up. That I am truly proud of. I also realize that even though I may not think I look any better, others do.

It's....goal time!!!

Back when I was a freshman in college I remember reading a Harvard study about goals. It said that you were 75% more likely to achieve your goals if you wrote them down and put them in a place where you would see them each day. After reading that I decided right then and there that damnit, I too would be proactive and immediately post my goals! And lo and behold- only thirteen years later...I did (do I kick ass or what?).

So last year was the first year I actually wrote out my goals and posted them on my fridge (was there ever ANY doubt where I would be sure to see them each day)? Being anal, I even categorized my goals into five subcategories (financial, travel, professional, home, health & fitness & personal). Im-pressive, huh? I think so too. Anyway, here's how I fared:

Financial:

1. Invest $4000 for each of us in Roth IRAs.
Outcome- Done. Wow, so far, so good.

2. Work toward paying off the Hawaii house in 5 years.
Outcome- Weeeelll...we didn't do so hot on this one. I made every payment of course (goodness gracious I'm anal AND cheap, surely you know this is a given), but I didn't double the payments like I'd planned to (not even once).

Travel:

1. Go to Hawaii in February.
Outcome - Done. Twice, even. Once in February, once in August. I do love my poi.

2. Go to Egypt over the holidays.
Outcome - Done. Was a great trip. Even my cold, oily butt massage.

3. Invest in direct stocks.
Outcome- Bought a great book. Got a great book mark. Opened a trading account with Scott Trade. Chickened out.

Professional:

1. Work toward getting my SPHR certification (the equivalent of the bar for HR practictioners...it's a national exam that most people take about 6-12 mos. to prepare for).
Outcome - Ummm...got as far as pricing the study materials on Ebay ($500+) and researching study groups (only held weeknights in LA). Due to the cost and effort, it's probably not gonna happen until Roy gets out of school.

2. Start up an HR consulting firm and solicit a few local clients for some extra cash.
Outcome - Got permission from the boss to ensure no conflict of interest, priced start up costs such as: E & O insurance, business license, CPA, etc. and decided...eh. The start up costs would be more than I'd even planned to make my year or two. Since I don't want to invest that much/time or effort into the venture, for now, I have shelved it.

3. Look into getting my Masters in HR.
Outcome- I priced a nearby private school and figured it would take 2-3 years (not a problem) and about $30,000 (problem). I am pretty sure that I if I got my Masters, I could probably earn back that $30,000 in a year or two with a "better job". But to be honest, I'm earning a decent salary now, and other than some heinous commuting, I'm very happy where I am. I work for a great organization and have three of the greatest CEOs I've ever worked for. I'm gonna pass on this one for now.

Home:

1. Plant flowers in front and back yard.
Outcome- Done. They're very pretty too, WHEN they BLOOM anyway. Apparently I am too dumb to understand the difference between annuals and perennials.

2. Remodel the guest bedroom and bathroom.
Outcome- Done (all thanks to Roy anyway).

Personal:

1. Learn how to make soap and sell them.
Outcome- Oh I learned how to make the soaps. But I also learned something else in the process- I am not very good at it, and I am incredibly lazy. But I love it. Even if it each bar does cost me about $13.67 to make.

2. Cook more.
Outcome- I can honestly say I cooked three times more in 2005 than I ever have before. But when you only cooked (spaghetti) once in 2004 that's not saying much. I cook more, but not enough. I still search the fridge for food I don't need to cook. "Wow! Yogurt, some old spaghetti and tofu! Awesome!"

3. Be a more supportive spouse.
Outcome- I think I did this. It was hard initially knowing that Roy would be out of a 'real job' for 4 years. It certainly put a damper on our travel and spending habits, and in the beginning, I felt some negativity. I was also nervous about being the sole provider. But it's gotten easier, to the point that I don't even think about it anymore. It's just us. On days when I've been gone 14 hours I know I can always count on a hot dinner, and on days when he's been studying for 14 hours he knows he can always count on some freshly baked cookies and hot chocolate. We're a good team.

4. Be more positive and optimistic.
Outcome - Ha ha ha.

Health & Fitness:

1. Drink 8 cups of water per day.
Outcome- Done. In the beginning, I was struggling to drink 6 cups a day. Now I'm a fricken water drinking machine. In the summer I was averaging 10-14 cups a day, and in the winter I still average about 9-10. I think my bladder is still in shock.

2. Reduce processed foods by 75%.
Outcome- Done. I avoid most frozen, canned, fried or packaged foods. Most of the time I try to eat fresh fruits and veggies, yogurts, and soy-based products. For three weeks in Egypt I ate meat only 1-2 times and no fast/fried foods. I do my best at staying chubby by continuing to eat too much good food.

3. Exercise three days a week.
Outcome- Done. And it's more like 5-6 days a week. It got easier to go as time went on. I work out 2 days a week at Curves, and now that my workplace has invested $400,000 in new gym equipment, I work out there 2 days a week too. We even have computer chips that you can use to save all your workout data in. Very cool. I also walk 1 day a week, and do TaeBo 1 day a week.

4. Lose thirty pounds.
Outcome- Done.

5. Take a daily multivitamin.
Outcome- Done. You would think this would be easy, but in years past, I would take my pills for about a week and then go down to only one or two days a week since it's just sooooo hard to reach out, open the bottle with my own two hands, and then swallow a whole pill, all by myself.

So that's it. It's a bit of a draw. While I met most of my personal, travel and health and fitness goals, I didn't do diddly on the professional, financial or personal. Though I already did my goals for 2006 (remember people...I'm anal) I plan on changing them.

I think 2005 was one of the best years I've ever had. And possibly because I was such a health nut, I didn't get sick once in 2005! Not even the sniffles. I've also been on a roll the last few weeks buying clothes that I like, as opposed to clothes that fit. It's a foreign feeling as this scenario has been *my life* for the past 5 years- "Wow, this blouse is teal, yellow and hot pink...with little puppies frolicking all over it...and goodness, it feels like it's made out of sandpaper and $99.99! But it fits! So I'll take three!!!"

Race Day!

Bad news...I won't be competing in the Carlsbad Race after all this weekend. But I'm no longer depressed about it because....HA! HA! I've already done it!!!

The background:

At the fu&*ing eleventh hour on Thursday, Roy tells me that his "manager" (an angry, bitter man clearly in the middle of mid-life crisis that I have very little love for) "surprised" him by rearranging his work schedule. Not only was he now scheduled to work on race day, but he also had his prime Friday night bar shift permanently taken away. So because of this double whammy, I really had no choice but to cancel the race plans.

I would like to say that I did this cheerfully and with a positive, upbeat Christian attitude (I am after all, a pilgrim). But I think you all know me better than that. I was pissed. VERY PISSED. Pissed off at Roy for 'assuming' he would be off that day and not specifically requesting it off. Pissed off at his work for taking away 50% of his livelihood, but mostly just pissed about missing the event I had been looking forward to and preparing for for months.

I woke up on Friday morning still feeling depressed, but also motivated. Because I knew come hell or high water, I was going to walk. I just needed to figure out how. By lunchtime I still did not have a plan. I knew that we couldn't walk on Saturday because all of the news reports said to expect rain. And I knew I couldn't walk on Sunday because Roy had to work (and he won't let me walk alone in the 'hood). Which only left me with...that (Friday) evening. Being manic, I saw absolutely nothing wrong with frantically calling my brother Joseph, who thank god, was still too groggy to think clearly. He agreed to meet me at my house in a few hours for what I was pathetically billing as the First Annual Hood Half Marathon. I then hurriedly called Roy at home to ask him to chill some bottles of water and whip us up a plate of spaghetti so that we could 'carb up' (too late, I know...but chubby, hungry people don't f&*k with pre-race eating requirements).

At 3:30 I pulled into my driveway. I quickly changed, taped up and inhaled a plate of spaghetti . By 4:00pm, Joseph and I were off! We agreed that because it would be dark soon and because and I was already pretty tired (remember, we just got back from Egypt last Sunday evening and I had worked all five days last week). So our pace wasn't the most impressive. But in three hours and fifty minutes, we walked not just the 13.2 miles, but a nice even 14!

I wish there was a moment of euphoria to share...my hitting 'the wall,' then unexpectedly catching my second wind to dramatically limping across the finish line while a group of frenzied onlookers cheered me on...but alas. It was fairly anticlimactic. We walked...and walked...and walked...and then we were done.

To be honest, though we were a little sore toward the end, we were both disappointed that the race wasn't more grueling. We do have the second half marathon in two weeks that we are definitely competing in, and we're thinking maybe we can speed up our granny pace by a few minutes and try and finish that one in 3.5 hours. But beyond that, I'm not too concerned. Right now, I'm just happy I did it. Part of me is just tickled that I woke up on Friday morning and decided I'd walk fourteen miles that night. Yay.

The Rundown

(This is me at the mosque mentioned in highlight #13. If you happenned to recognize that I am wearing the exact same shirt and jeans as I was in yesterday's picture...well, that's because I packed a grand total of 4 shirts for our 18-day trip!!! Yes, sometimes I'm surprised someone married me too. But then, this IS a guy who only packed 3 shirts himself.)

As promised, here is the rundown of highlights and lowlights on the trip!!! (Disclaimer: Many of them I've already blathered or whine about in previous posts.)

TOP HIGHLIGHTS:

1. Getting to see Anne Frank's actual diary at the Museum and walking through the secret bookcase that led to the hidden rooms. Though all of the furniture was confiscated upon their discovery, we could still see the photos of 'film stars' that Anne used to decorate her bedroom walls. Very, very touching.

2. I feel like Satan calling this a highlight, but it was very, very fascinating to see the prostitutes tapping on their little glass windows with their beds right behind them. I don't want to gross you out, but at one empty window I even saw a bottle of moutwash right next to the bed. I know, I know...too much information. Personally though, I was little hurt and insulted that NOT ONE prostitute tapped the glass for me. What?! I could be gay. They could have at least tried. You never know. I do love a good deal as we all know.

3. It was also equally neat to see so many thriving marijuana plants and not have to fear the 'Five-0' was coming to get you!

4. I know I mentioned that we went to the pyramids of Giza, but did I also mention that we got to go into one of them (Cheops)? This was as fun as seeing the mammoth pyramids themselves. Basically you had to crouch and walk for about 200 yards down a narrow, dark, steep and stifling hot passageway (with others brushing up against you going the opposite direction). When you finally got to the center, there was a large, empty room (that was filled with the treasures) with a sarcophogus in it. I am not claustrophobic in the least (quite the opposite actually), but even I breathed a huge sigh of relief once I got out.

5. I think my love for kushari has already been well documented, but it's worth noting that on the 18-day trip, I had 11 bowls. Thank you. I'm impressed too.

6. Riding a boat out to a small island to see the Temple of Philae. Back in the 60s before the Aswan Dam was built (yes, yes...I want on the damn tour with a damn guide and got some damn stuff), tourists would have to row out six months of the year to see the temple pillars protruding from the water below.

7. Hiking from the Valley of the Kings and looking down over the Al-Deir Al-Bahari Temple. It was like looking down from heaven.

8. Getting to see a funeral procession while we were eating (believe or not, kushari) in Luxor. Out of nowhere 30-40 men ran past us with a coffin hoisted over their heads, yelling and chanting together. Sad, but beautiful. Truly one of the most moving moments of the trip for me. Kinda creepy too.

9. Catching a boat ferry across the river to eat dinner on the roof top of a French-trained chef's home and being able to see Luxor Temple illuminated across the Nile. Best dinner I've ever had in my life. Hands down.

10. Hiking Mt. Sinai with all my Chewbacca friends. They really are adorable animals overall, even if they do flatulate with no regard for you.

11. Being able to dine poolside everyday at our resort (which I certainly cannot afford to do in America, unless the 'resort' happens to be a Motel 6 and they're serving up a free continental breakfast by the pool) on the Red Sea and beachcoming the next day for shells (even though we did find a camel carcass that had washed ashore). While I was trying not to look and squealing Roy was busy trying to figure out which ligament was what). Sick bastard.

12. Looking through the crystal-clear waters of the Red Sea. Though it pains me to say the coral reefs and colorful fish are more beautiful than even the Hawaiian waters, I belive it's true.

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13. Everytime we had our laundry done. The environment was fairly filthy most of the time...we ran out of antibacterial lotion fairly quickly (devastating to germophobe Roy), so it was always nice getting back our clean, albeit damp laundry from the front desk.

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TOP LOWLIGHTS:

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1. Having to eat cucumbers and tomatoes three times a day the entire, wonderful trip.

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2. Having to dodge camel/donkey/horse/dog/human piss and poop all day, everyday. (Our shoes have already been washed in bleach.)

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3. The incessant car honking. Think of New York during rush hour, but with every cab driver coming off a bad crank high who has also just discovered that his wife is sleeping with his brother. THAT'S the streets of Cairo. We nearly died eighty times trying to cross the streets (not an exaggeration, I promise). There are no rules there. But then...I am a lawless woman.

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4. As with any trip to a poor country, it gets exhausting having to hunt down public toilets that are inevitably not free, have no toilet paper, are clogged up, and so smelly they make you start to gag even though you're breathing through your mouth. I think if I lived there I'd have to start to wearing Depends twenty-four hours a day. While it would require a larger jeans size, I'm thinking it's worth the convenience- "I SAID I'll only pay 20 pounds for that shirt! TWENTY!!! No! I don't want it then! What?! Twenty five???!!! Oh wait...hold on a second please.... Ahhhh........... Okay, now where were we?"

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And there you have it. Our trip in a nutshell. Always stressful, always chaotic, but in the end, so worth it.

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PS- If you're wondering why those stupid periods appeared everywhere at the end it's because I think I exceeded my allotted space and Blogger kept single spacing it for me, which made it look entirely too cluttered. You should know by now that I will not tolerate being bullied into single-spacing by a couple of programming geeks.

Why being cheap sucks (and other stuff)

So I've been bragging and bleating to anyone who will listen that we're participating (note that in the interest of honest journalism, I've replaced the word 'competing' with 'participating') in two half marathons this month. Now that the first race is this weekend, I'm waffling. And not because I'm not in shape. I'm in shape. Sort of.

Anyway, the reason why I'm waffling is because...I'm cheap. I hadn't realized that it would cost us $110 for the entry fees, another $50 for the hotel (since we're splitting it with my brother), $30 for gas, plus another $50 for meals. All together, we're looking at about $250 for what is essentially a LONG, TIRING WALK that just happens to be in another city (Carlsbad).

As a result, I have had variations of this conversation running through my manic head all day:

Cheap, reasonable Josie: F&%k! That race is gonna be expensive.

Hip, cool Josie: What?!! You're niggling over $250?! Come on! You just went to Egypt for three weeks and ate everything in sight! You certainly weren't worried about paying for meals then!!!

Cheap, reasonable Josie: Well, you do raise a good point. But that's why I feel bad, because Egypt was expensive and we're going to Hawaii in a month. Money's tight.

Hip, cool Josie: Look, you made this one of your new year's resolutions. You'll regret it if you don't do it. You're doing this for you! Besides, you can't put a price on health, you cheap bastard.

Cheap, reasonable Josie: But I have an idea! What if I still did the walk, but did it here at home instead! That way I can still say I did the walk and save the $250!

Hip, cool Josie: Oh lord...you LIVE in the HOOD! How lame would your walk be?!!! The Carlsbad race takes you right along the ocean!!! Look, you're also completely overlooking the excitement and energy in the air, the sense of accomplishment you'll feel once you're done! Plus, every so often you have to shake things up a little. Going to the gym gets old after awhile. Something like this will continue to motivate you!

You see what I mean? Being cheap is a curse! Here's the thing- I am pretty sure I'm gonna do it (the REAL race, not the ghetto one). I really, really want to do it, and I know I'll feel like crap if I don't. Plus we're hoping to visit some family and friends while we're down there. So it's gonna be a fun day or two, even if it does cost alot of money.

Because I've been preoccupied with yapping about Egypt lately I've neglected to share my weight loss progress. I just had a weigh-in at Curves so I've got the stats. Over the last month, I lost 4 pounds. This is pretty amazing considering that I ate sooooo much good food in Egypt and it was the holidays. I am pretty excited about it. Aside from that milestone, I also had a very interesting thing happen to me the other night.

So we got home from Egypt on Sunday evening. We stopped by my brother's on the way home to pick up our car (amazingly, he turned down the chance to drive my mini van to pick us up!!!). Anyway, as a treat, he had ordered us two take out dinners from Ono Hawaiian Barbecue (kalua pig for me, and chicken katsu for Roy for those who are interested). Anyway, we were SO hungry that we did something we've never done with non-finger foods before, we INHALED it in the car on the way home. With our fingers. (I never said we had any class).

Anyway, that being said, I knew that I'd be a little heavier than before I left since it was:

1. Late in the evening;
2. I had just eaten my dinner; and
3. I was bloated (it's almost that time of the month...trust me, I REALLY didn't want to share that but it's a key factor)

Even though I told myself repeatedly NOT to weight myself that night (and held out for at least 2 minutes before I eventually caved) I insisted on stepping on the scale because I was dying to see how much, if any, pounds I had gained. Because while I ate everything in sight in Egypt, we were generally on our feet for most of the day.

So I stepped on the scale and tried to nonchalantly glance down at the verdict. I was quickly horried to see I had gained...SIX POUNDS. SIX. As in one more than five. One less than seven. Even though I had tried to prepare myself, I still nearly fell over from shock. Talk about devastation. I was so disgusted and depressed. I felt doomed to battling my weight forever. It only made me feel worse when Roy stepped on the scale and declared that he (who had also ate a lot) had gained a measly pound (which by the way, I have decided I will not longer whine about. It is what it is, and I should feel happy for him, not envious and resentful).

I tried to hold my head my head up high and rationalize the situation but as you know, it's hard. The next morning I got up and pretty much dashed on over to the scale to see how much different my weight would be. Past experience has shown that I am anywhere from 0 to 2.5 pounds lighter in the morning. On rare occasions where I have consumed a lot of salt that day, I have been 3 pounds lighter the next day.

I stepped on the scale and would you believe...I was FIVE POUNDS lighter. After I excitedly pumped my fists in the air (for only about five minutes) I tried to figure out how on earth that could be. The only thing I could think of was that I hadn't factored in possible swelling from flying for 18 hours that day. In any case, it still baffles me. Roy insists this has happenned to him before, but for me, this is a first. I'm very attuned to my body and it's responses, and nothing like this had ever happenned to me before. I will say that despite the euphoria I felt when I realized I had only gained a pound that it was still soooo not worth the trauma.

So the final numbers are...over the last 9 months, I have lost a little over 36 pounds. My goal for 2006 is to lose another 10. I've learned not to focus on the big number, and to instead focus on either mini-weekly goals, or progress goals ('to walk ten miles today' vs. 'to lose a pound this week'). This not only makes it less stressful, but more attainable and fun.

Trust me, I am well aware that I am not fitness or nutrition expert, but I will say this and then log off- the first ten pounds are the hardest. After that, you are so motivated and in awe of yourself that it only gets easier. At first, the fact that it gets easier is barely noticeable, but before you know it, six months have passed and you've lost twenty. In my case, above all else, it has been liberating and empowering to know that I no longer have to be a prisoner to my own long-held mistruths (I'll never be able to lose weight, I have a poor metabolism, etc.).

Free at last!

(This is Roy and I at the Djoser Pyramid.)

Holy hell. We made it. But we almost didn't. First off, our cab dropped us off at the wrong airport, which resulted in us having to take not one, not two, but THREE airport shuttles to get to the correct terminal (which makes perfect sense because the terminal was a whole mile away).

When we finally got to the check-in counter our agent was already in the middle of a nervous breakdown. She took 20 min. just to type our names in the computer. Once she finally printed our tickets we made a mad dash to Immigration. As we were standing in line at Passport Control giving thanks to God for still being able to make the flight (and that may have been our critical error since after all, we were still in Allah's country), we got pulled out of line.

The agent wordlessly pulled us aside (mind you it's 2:00am and our flight boarded in 30 minutes), took our passports and tickets, said, "Wait here five minutes" and disappeared. After 15 minutes passed we began to worry. I walked over to the supervisor's office and began miming that our plane was about to leave. The supervisor dismissively waved his hand at me and said, "Wait five minutes." Another 15 minutes passed and then I really began to worry. At this point, Immigration was totally deserted so there was no one to ask for help (or notice if we were bagged and taken away). So again I asked the supervisor what the hell was going on (well, not in those words exactly since life in prision doesn't really suit me). Without even looking up the supervisor barked, "Wait five minutes".

Since our passports and visas had passed inspection a dozen times previously, we could not figure out why we were being detained. Did we look like drug smugglers? Visions of having to spread 'em while the inspectors snapped on rubber gloves flashed through my head (I wasn't too worried about false imprisonment since I donated $15 to Amnesty International in college and figured I could call in the favor if I had to). After another ten minutes passed we were both officially in panic mode- cold sweating, our stomachs in knots. We no longer cared about our stupid plane, now we were just hoping to make it out of the country...someday.

A few minutes later Roy was able to flag down a KLM (our airline) employee to ask if they could help us find out what was going on. There was a brief dialogue in rapid fire Arabic before the agent turned to us and said the equivalent of, "You're screwed." However, a few minutes later he was told that we could run to the gate and that Immigration would meet us there with our passports and tickets and hold the plane.

Now you may recall that since 9-11, in practically every airport around the world, you need to show your passport and ticket to someone approximately every ten feet. Being as our Arabic is limited to "No thank you," "I said no thank you," and "Goddamnit don't you know what NO thank you means?!!!!" this was a problem. We sprinted no more than thirty yards before we were asked by airport security for our tickets and passports. Since it's generally not a wise idea to push past someone carrying an M-16 we screeched to a halt and looked around frantically until we found another KLM employee and had them translate our situation to each security person.

By some miracle our passports and tickets arrived and we made our flight. We have NO idea what happenned (even the KLM employees were baffled) and quite frankly, we no longer care. I am just happy to be home!

Goodbye Cairo

Today is our last day in Cairo, which means (sniffle) that I have only one more bowl of kushari! : ( Though this makes me quite sad, Roy seems quite relieved as he has been dragged to kushari shop after kushari shop across the country for weeks. Possibly out of embarassment that we keep returning to the same shop for lunch each day, he's now taken to overtipping the staff. Yesterday I saw Roy (newly nicknamed G Money) slipping cash to not just our waiter, but to the cooks and cashier as well! I know as a bartender he enjoys being able to tip generously everywhere we go. In fact, I've never seen him more tickled than the day the (male) maids folded our blankets into giant swans on our bed in Sinai- he was ready to dump his entire wallet's contents on the bed!

Before you think that G Money is out of control, I should explain that tipping here is a way of life (called "baksheesh"). People (both Egyptians and foreigners) are generally expected to tip for everything- opening a door, directing you to the restroom (four yards away), giving you your mail, hailing you a cab, showing you the exit (four yards away with a big sign that says "EXIT"on it), etc.). Thankfully, due to the exchange rate, this is easily affordable, which is why G Money has adapted well to this new custom.

Anyway, today as we were walking around the city two men bicycled past us balancing trays about 4-feet long on their heads. Each tray held hundreds of pieces of bread stacked over a foot tall with nothing to secure the bread down. While they were deftly balancing these hundreds of pieces of bread on their heads they were also expertly dodging and weaving their way through hundreds of honking cars and pedestrians, chatting with each other and laughing. This is a site that we see a dozen times each day. Yet if you were to put me on this same task, I can pretty much guarantee I would make it about ten feet before simultaneously hitting a child, skinning both knees and spilling all two hundred pieces of mama's freshly baked bread all over the pavement.

The absolute hardest thing to do in any country is to capture everyday life on film. Cairo is no exception. I will miss seeing women in burquas, watching mothers balance a basket on their head and a child on their shoulders, people doing their dishes on the street, paying a pound to use a toilet that is nothing more than a hole in the ground covered in flies, and the mayhem on the streets.

As I may have mentioned previously, we were supposed to be here in 2000. When that fell through, I felt like a part of me was missing, and now it's been filled. Horribly cheesy, I know, but so true. I will never ever forget the site of the pyramids (the last standing Wonder of the World) or riding a boat out to the Philae temple (it was under the Nile and later moved painstakingly to higher ground). If you ever get a windfall of cash, I promise, this country will not disappoint.

Final Report from Egypt!

After another very eventful bus ride (more on this later) we are back in Cairo! Yesterday's journey was on a slightly better bus, but it was about ten hours long, which enabled us to see not one, but two fights break out on the bus! We have quickly come to notice that when an argument ensues here, it is very rarely restricted to just the two arguing parties. More often than not the argument will soon escalate into a full blown riot with every person within a 50-yard radius involved in the screaming. Being an infidel American I have modestly deferred from participating in the yelling thus far (though it does look fun). I think this is because as Americans, we have been conditioned with three automatic responses whenever we hear loud screaming in Arabic:

1. Urinate ourselves;
2. Hit the ground; or
3. Flee.

None of these were options on the bus yesterday, unfortunately. Here is my summary on both arguments:

Fight Number 1: So we're riding up a steep hill in the middle of the desert when suddenly our bus engine is cut, and we start rolling backwards (never a great feeling by the way). Our bus driver pulls over to the side of the road and storms to the middle of the bus (where we were sitting of course) and starts screaming at a passenger. The passenger begins screaming back. Soon thereafter, about ten others have all jumped up and are screaming as well. I rise to scream at this point too but Roy pulls me back (killl joy). After five unproductive minutes of screaming a jovial passenger from the front starts collecting money (we can only assume that the passenger the driver yelled at was short on this fare, though why he picked a mountain side to start this argument is beyond me) from everyone, and he hands it to the driver (along with a cigarette) to appease him. Argument solved.

Fight Number 2: We pull into a stop to pick up more passengers when it appears that a seat has been double-booked. This is does not surprise us American infidels because we have noticed that the system of selling bus tickets is antiquated. Everything is done manually by hand, even the manifests are handwritten. Since each bus station sells tickets this same way, it is easy to see how one station might sell the same seat as another station 200 miles away. Again, shouting ensues and about 15 people begin hollering and screaming for at least 10 minutes. Eventually amid much fury, some seat shuffling is done and the argument is eventually solved.

Otherwise, the rest of our journey was rather uneventful. Our only real regret was not spending more time in the Red Sea. It's hard to believe that the entire stretch of coastline is all coral reef. I can see why divers consider the Red Sea to be the world's 'crown jewel' of dive spots. Since I've already chronicled the special joy I feel while swimming among droves of fish I stayed closer to the shore and gathered seashells.

These shells were not for me, they were actually for sentimental Roy, who keeps a scrap of nearly every admisssion/train ticket we are ever given. And since he's decided that the 4,237,545 scraps of little paper are not enough, he's now taken up rock collecting as well. On this trip alone we now have dirt and granite from Mt. Sinai, quartz from the Valley of the Kings, and a shell from the Red Sea. Wonderful...an anal person's dream!

Today we're heading to a patisserie (J. Groppi's) that was in it's heydey (according to our guidebook), the most celebrated patisserie this side of the Mediterranean. It hosted ritzy high teas and galas for the wealthy, but is now somewhat of a shadow of it's former self, which is why riff raff such as me is now allowed through their elegant doors (it's still the Godiva of Egypt I'm told). We need to get a few souvenirs for people, and though I'd hoped to get more traditional Egyptian foods, honestly, most of the food items here have already expired (and I'd feel kinda bad handing someone cummin and curry powder that was packaged back in 1972). So off to J. Groppi's we go!

From there we plan on walking along the Nile and getting me more kushari (it's been 3-4 days since I've had a bowl and I'm jonesing for it). Kushari by the way, is a national staple...it's like a vegetarian spaghetti. It's spaghetti noodles, macaroni, rice, and vermicelli covered with fried onions, chickpeas and lentils. It's covered with a combination of tomato sauce and lemon oil. As we say in the islands- hooo....broke 'da mouth! And unlike all the pricer hotel meals we eat here (restaurants are not as common since most cannot afford to eat at them), it's cheap. Less than a dollar per heaping bowl.

All in all, the trip was like any other- exhilarating but exhausting. For some reason, the poverty here really took me aback. I've travelled in many other similarly poor countries, but the poverty here seemed even more pervasive (65% or more are below middle class and 50% cannot read). Much of even downtown Cairo is like looking at a city that has been trapped in time. Plumbing is sketchy, electric not always available, ceilings with holes in them. I've seen very little, and I mean very little, new construction. The situation in many ways seems quite hopeless with the current 'semi democracy' in place.

Though everyone works more than one job to survive, the unemployment rate is atrocious and there is alot of people simply sitting or standing around for lack of better options. Yet there is very little to no begging. Amazing. As a married female here, I have been left alone nearly the entire trip. That is a first. Though Egyptian women are more liberated today than ever before, and Egypt is quite flexible in it's adherance to Islam, I could count on one hand the number of women I saw driving a car (one in almost 3 weeks), and on the combined 17-hours we spent on buses, I saw only two Egyptian women riding them. I'm not saying my experience is typical or the norm, it's just what I saw when I was paying attention. Once I get back I'll try to summarize a list of highlights and lowlights for everyone. Until then...ma'as salaama (goodbye)!

The Trip East

Holy hell. What a hellish couple of days it's been. We're still on the Sinai peninsula and leave tomorrow back to Cairo. I can't say I'm not happy to get the f*&k outta Dodge. We left Cairo a few days ago on what was supposed to be a 7.5 hour ride to Sinai. In order to get an idea of just what this experience was like, do the following for me, would you?

Picture an old, ragged bus seat. On this seat is a collection of vomit, diarrhea, sweat, body odor and possibly another male fluid you shouldn't have to see unless renting porn. Now imagine bouncing up and down on this chair in the sweltering heat for mile after winding mile. For EIGHT AND A HALF HOURS. Then imagine finally being able to get off of the seat, only to be dropped off by your surly, unhelpful bus driver in the pitch black sandy desert with your heavy backpacks and no hotel in sight.

And there you have it- the start of our wild and fun adventure to Sinai!

It's gotten a little bitter since then (emphasis on the word little). After being abandoned in the pitch black in the middle of the barren wilderness we were able to catch a ride (and by 'catch' I mean get stuck paying the equivalent of $5 per foot for a 3-mile drive) to the monastery guesthouse we were staying at (and by 'staying at' I mean we paid more money to sleep in the smelly hut than we've paid to stay at four-star hotels). I can still hear the monks laughing at us now...

Anyway, after sitting on the aforementioned scary bus and bouncing around for over 8 hours, we staggered into our smelly hut only to be told that the only bus that was leaving the next day was at 10:00am. TEN AM? We nearly puked on that fu&*ing bus all day long only to have to leave in a few hours!?! Needless to say, I was pissed. I sulked through our scary dinner (I can only assume it was meat, but I wouldn't know since I snootily refused to even touch it with my fork. In true prissy fashion, I covered it with my napkin and ate all the rice around it) until we came up with a plan.

We ended up waking up at 3:15am to hike up Mt. Sinai in time for the sunrise. Let's just say that as difficult as it was, it was probably one of the top moments of my life. We walked uphill for 2+ hours with a shared flashlight on rocky terrain, with basically no idea where to go, starving, cold, tired and a lot freaked out. I also learned the hard way that those sweet, innocent grinning camels frequently emit a loud, Chewbacca-like roar. Unfortunately, I learned this at 3:30am in the pitch black with a screeching camel's mouth about 12-inches from my ear (that I couldn't see). If I was going to receive the next set of commandments from God that morning, I think he quickly changed his mind after he heard the string of profanity from my mouth following the camel incident. Let's just say I'm pretty sure I was the only 'pilgrim' that day who God would rather not return to his sacred mountain again...ever.

Anyhow, the walk up was semi-traumatic, but exhilarating. Though frightening a large percentage of the time, it got less scary with each step. Because I am not good with describing touching moments, I will just say this- watching the sunrise at the summit with Roy was awe-inspiring.

We returned back to the monastery by 8:30am for some breakfast (which was the equivalent of hot dog buns and coffee...damn monks) and then toured the monastery, where we saw the descendent of the Burning Bush (we had expected a withering, thousand-year old plant and instead saw a giant 15-ft. tall flowing tree). From there we had to haul ass to catch the bus to the city we're in now- Dahab.

Dahab is described as the alternative to the over-developed, commercial, overcrowded tourist city of Sharm el-Shikh (the resorts that were bombed six times this summer). And here's what I've learned after having spent some time here- I prefer the over-developed, commercial overcrowded tourist city over this pot-smoking hippie crap. I saw camps for backpackers that were nothing more than filthy, frond-covered concrete blocks and flea-covered mattresses. Our resort is amazing ($40 for a four-star hotel), but it's hard to relax when there is all this poverty and trash right outside the hotel walls. Not fun.

Anyway, will probably write more from Cairo in a few days.

More than you wanted to know...

We are back in Cairo. Yippie. I missed all the exhaust and cigarette smoke and black snot that I get as a result. So glad I'm back to blowing out black boogers again. Anyway, the trip down south was awesome. I think I left off going to get an Egyptian massage at our hotel in Luxor the last time I wrote. And that was...in-ter-esting. Here's the rundown:

• For starters, it was in the evening, and for some reason, the windows were thrown wide open. This meant I was fighting hypothermia and frostbite the whole time.
• Secondly, the sanitation. Not good. The massage chair had no towels or barrier between your face and the plastic. All I could think during the massage was that my face sweat was interminging with hundreds of others face sweat and most notably, that of the hairy Dutch man before me.
• My masseuse...how can I put this nicely...was quite, uh...liberal with the massage oil. Whereas a typical masseuse uses oil on a more as-needed basis, this homegirl was dousing me with it. We're talking five or six squirts per every six inches! I was in awe. I soaped up THREE times immediately following my massage and still glistened. It looked like I had dived into a vat of Astroglide for days.
• The style of massage I received cannot be described any more accurately than "light tickling". I tried asking my masseuse to be "harder" at one point thinking the one or two English words/phrases she might know as a masseuse would be "harder," "softer" and perhaps "cheap golden shower, please" but no such luck. This only seemed to result in more massage oil squirting on my butt cheeks so I quickly shut up.

But here's what was awesome and made it all worthwhile- because the windows were thrown wide open and it appears impossible to be any further than ten feet from a blaring mosque loudspeaker here, I got to hear the call for Friday prayers during a large portion of my massage. Listening to the prayer chants and being massaged by a woman in a veil was very surreal for the Hawaiian redneck in me.

We had a phenonemal time there since we were in a great resort in the heart of Luxor. One day we did a hike from the Valley of the Kings to a temple on the other side of a mountain that was just astonishing. While we were traipsing around the mountain we passed a herd of donkeys and collected beautiful rocks. We also went to Luxor temple at night. Seeing the temple illuminated was definitely a highlight. What wasn't was the cheesy belly dancing performance we went to in our hotel there. For starters, our belly dancer could have been a male transvestite. Secondly, he/she pulled me up on stage! MORTIFYING. This was definitely my karma for years of heckling all the pasty white tourists in Hawaii who got suckered into dancing the hukilau. Let's just say that the world is safe from me ever baring my belly to the general public as well. Can we please ban things like forced karaoke performances and clumsy tourist dances? For f&*k's sake!!!

Anyway, after two days in Aswan and three days in Luxor we caught the night train back to Cairo and arrived here yesterday. Last night we went to watch a performance of sufi dancers (whirling dervishes) at a huge open marketplace. This was the same marketplace that I got clocked in the head by someone carrying stuff on their head (it is amazing what people can balance on their heads here- children, bags of fruit, chickens, bicycles...) and told I was chubby (long story that I've already retold ten times to every English speaker I know for attention and pity).

Anyway, we went back to the same marketplace that evening so that we could see a troupe of men twirl for over 40 minutes without vomiting, staggering or skipping a beat. Inspired by their discipline to attain a trace-like state that would also bring me closer to God, I attempted to twirl a few times in our hotel room. Eight rapid twirls later, well...Roy is downstairs in the lobby trying to pay for a our room lamp and I'm wiping vomit off the bedcovers.

This morning we hailed a taxi and bought our bus tickets to Sinai. We leave tomorrow. Should be loads of fun. Judging from how cheap our tickets were, I'm quite confident we'll be perched on the roof of the bus among bird-flu carrying chickens and diarrhea-inflicted goats. We're staying at a monastery our first night (which *surprisingly* costs more than the four star resorts we've been staying at), and a resort on the Red Sea the second two nights.

On the itinerary there is a hike up Mt. Sinai (I have a feeling God is long overdue for a new prophet and I'm probably just the person he's looking for), a visit to the St. Katherine's monastery (this used to be a pilgrammage for the Coptic Christians for hundreds of years, but I hear now they have a kick ass dinner buffet...definitely equally worth trekking to), and a dip in the Red Sea for some snorkeling. The area has plenty of beautiful coral reefs, Bedouin camel treks into the desert, and tie-dyed shirts for sale everywhere...what's not to like?

Once we return from Sinai we'll spend another two days in Cairo dodging death (we have nearly been rundown about 47 times at last count), and complaining about being ripped off all day. Wonderful stuff. As for my eating? After eight months of fairly continuous self dicipline, well, I'm pleased to announce- I have fallen of the wagon. In fact, I've catapulted myself so far off the friggen wagon I can't even see the damn wagon with binoculors. I have no idea how much I weigh, but my guess is that thanks to the great food here, I've put on a few. I'm not walking half as much as I thought I would because walking anywhere here is basically suicide. Between dodging cars and puddles of donkey poo and piss, let's just say I'm excused from gaining a few. Well, we're off to eat some kushari (a dish I've had SIX times since we've landed...I told you all I was manic) for lunch before an afternoon siesta. Hope you all had a wonderful New Years (ours was just magical...we stood on the steps of our hotel breathing in the aforementioned donkey piss and exhaust)!