It makes me sad to say goodbye.

Today, The Rocky Mountain News from Colorado produced its final edition. The departure of Rocky, as it was often called, still leaves one publishing paper in Denver--The Denver Post. Many cities are discovering similarly that in the declining economy (and declining use of printed media) there is only room for one major paper in a region. Many of these cities have consolidated their papers. The remaining papers also find themselves cutting back on staff and production, leaving many former employees out of a job and searching for one in a market that simply doesn't exist anymore.

It is sad to see newspapers dying out. First of all, it is a media that provides news and services to a market that is WOEFULLY underserved. What about all the poor people who cannot afford computers and internet? How are they to get their news, find out about jobs, etc.? Second, it provides an opportunity for reading that many people may not find elsewhere. I know I do not like reading information on a computer screen nearly as much as I enjoy it on paper. And what about all those silly things, like the paper mache projects we did when we were kids--where will kids get their paper mache now?

I'm guilty of contributing to the decline of newspapers. When I moved out of the suburban sprawl of Memphis and relocated a few miles south of the border in Mississippi, I did not renew my newspaper subscription. This is not because I prefer the Internet for my news as much as because the Memphis paper isn't a great one anyway. But I do get and have gotten my news from the Internet for a long time now. There is a lot to be said for being able to quickly search through the information for stories that are relevant.

I suppose it is inevitable, to see traditional papers going away and being replaced by websites and instant news updates sent to cell phones, but it is sad to see an institution such as Rocky, only a few months shy of its 150th anniversary, closing its doors forever. Especially since I have a fond connection to the paper--I was born in Denver, and I subscribed to Rocky when I was in college in Wyoming.

So goodbye, old friend, and I guess from now on Coloradans will read all about it in the Post. For how long is anyone's guess.

It's true; I am a master of the "medium" setting on Guitar Hero.

And just so you know, I didn't do nearly the damage the other night that I thought I did--today's weigh in: 195.8. Whee!

Sort of shot myself in the foot last night, er, stomach I guess. After my most excellent weigh-in yesterday morning of 195, I went out and celebrated by indulging in a Chinese buffet. Chinese food is probably tied with Mexican food for the most destructive to my weight-loss goal. With Mexican food, it's all the fats and oils (and chips); with Chinese food, it's probably a toss-up between the sheer volume (I mean, it is a buffet for goodness' sake; you're supposed to eat all you can) and the salts that make me retain water. So this morning's weigh-in was 197.2, a much less enjoyable moment than yesterday. Guess it's back to the gym to undo what I've done. *sigh*

Today's weigh-in: 195.0

Well, holy crap. Still not sure what's finally assisting the success, but I'll take it, whatever it is.

On another topic, I'm going to have to call my dad and thank him for the job he and my mother did raising my brother and me. I'm now realizing what a nice, normal, non-screwed up childhood I had, as I read The Commercial Appeal's coverage of a murder trial in the Memphis area. This girl, Noura Jackson, is on trial for the stabbing death of her mother. This woman was stabbed over 50 times. The reason I've been following this gruesome story is because a bunch of my former students are all mixed up in it. This girl attended the school where I teach, thankfully before my time, but she would have been in the same grade as the first freshman class I taught. By all accounts she was quite the party animal and had numerous discipline problems, so I'm really glad I never had to deal with her. But a bunch of the girls I did teach were her friends, for worse, clearly. And they were all with her in the weeks, days, even hours before and after her mother was killed, so now they are all being called to testify. And it isn't just my girls--it is the older brothers, cousins, and even boyfriends of some of the girls who are being called to the stand. A disturbing lifestyle is unfolding, one of sex, alcohol, pot, cocaine, mushrooms, and prescription drugs. Obviously, a number of my girls are guilty of participating in this lifestyle.

I'm left wondering, what is the difference in my childhood, compared to theirs, that created such a different experience for me? I know there had to be plenty of kids when I was in high school who drank, but I would be hard-pressed to point them out. Since I grew up in Southern California there had to be plenty of skaters and surfers who were stoned all the time, but again, I didn't know many of them and didn't hang around with them. I can only think of one friend who ever got into a "hard" drug, meth, and thankfully that was for a short period of time. Out of my graduating class of about 800 students I know of ONE who was pregnant when we graduated, so if they were all having sex they were awfully quiet about it. And I never did any of that. So why am I so different from these kids now?

Is it the money? My parents didn't have a lot of money, but we got by OK. Maybe these parents give their kids too many things. My parents' policy was, "Well, I didn't have it growing up, so you must not need it." Do parents not say "no" to their kids anymore? Is it the strict religious education? All these kids, boys and girls, all attended Catholic schools at one point. Are the Catholics doing something wrong? I was raised Lutheran, which we always joking said was "Catholic-light: all the ritual, none of the guilt." Is the culture of guiltiness causing these kids to go ahead and make themselves guilty? Is it the single-sex school environment? I do know our girls tend to act like complete fools when they're around boys, because they haven't learned to socialize with them. From an educational perspective it's great, but from a social development perspective I wonder. Is it TV? They all watch Gilmore Girls and One Tree Hill and Gossip Girls, which show lifestyles like this all the time. But hey, I watched Beverly Hills: 90210 and the first few seasons of The Real World, but I didn't try to live like that.

I wish I knew what it was so that I could help fix it. And I want to know what mistakes are being made by these parents so that I don't make them someday if I choose to have children.

What a scary, f*&^ed-up world we live in.

First of all, yes, it WAS a joke. Thank goodness.

Second, I weighed in this morning at 196.8, so far the lightest since I started keeping track again the beginning of January, so Yay me!

But then we come to the purpose of this post. Have you ever been given one of those "left-handed compliments"? You know, a compliment that also seems a bit like a criticism?

I'll give an example. One year, as I was bewailing an approaching birthday, a student of mine asked how old I was going to be. Upon hearing the answer, she exclaimed, "Oh, you aren't that old!" I'm sure she was intending to convey the feeling that my upcoming age was not as old as I was perceiving it to be, but instead I took it to mean "Well, you are old, but not as old as you could be." Sort of a compliment, but also a recognition that I am apparently no spring chicken. Or even summer turkey.

I'm sure today's left-handed compliment was just as innocuous. "You look so cute today!" I did dress up a bit more than usual. Some teachers like to be formal and put-together; I am as much of a slob as I can get away with. My husband often complains that I would wear open-toed shoes every day if I could. He's partly right: I love open-toed shoes, but really if I could do it without getting reprimanded I'd go shoeless every time. Anyway, I usually wear clogs, mules, or comfy tennis shoes most days, with slacks and a slightly dressy t-shirt (by dressy I mean it is one of the little stretch t's they sell at Old Navy or Target, not a true cotton T-shirt promoting a sporting event or something). My hair is almost always in a ponytail because I hate taking the time to dry it and straighten it. I do wear makeup every day; that's probably the one "fashion" item I always wear. But today I straightened my hair, and I wore black slouchy suede boots with black leggings (and turquoise socks, which the girls loved because they matched my earrings of all things) and an oversized cream-colored chenille turtleneck sweater. This is pretty much the height of fashion for me, and as good as it's going to get. So I understand the girls' intentions--I was certainly dressed nicer than usual.

But it really made me feel bad about how I'm dressed every other day. I'm already an oversized clod in a herd of trim, nimble, gracefully-aging former sorority girls with fashion sense and a much better ability to color-coordinate than I've ever had. I never went through a girly stage in my life, so I've always dressed like a tomboy. And now, all the fashions that I find really cute are either "too young" for me (there is nothing sadder than a woman in her mid-thirties trying to dress like a teenager) or are not cut to look appealing on someone over a size 8, which I most certainly am well beyond. One of my coworkers favors close cut trousers and tailored jackets; another is tall and willowy and loves shorter skirts and flouncy tops. And here I am, whale amongst dolphins, and I can't even take a compliment without finding some way for it to hurt my feelings.

So maybe I need to take a little more time in the mornings, picking out my clothes, working on my hair, all that crazy stuff. Or maybe I'll keep getting up at the time I get up, go about my same routine, and hope that big and baggy comes back into fashion.

I really hope it's a joke.

I spent my whole weekend in Knoxville, shepherding a group of high school girls at the TN High School Swimming and Diving Championships. My girls are generally not a problem, and I've never before come away from a state meet totally frustrated, but this was different.

First, the meet has been in Nashville ever since I started coaching high school. Add an extra three hours to the drive both ways and a time change, and you've got a recipe for tiredness. We had to stay an extra day, because of the length of the drive, so I had to put up with the girls for longer than I have before.

Then we add in the "in town" driving factor. In Nashville, we always stay right by the pool, so we can walk back and forth between the pool and the hotel. There are plenty of restaurants of varying styles and price ranges in the area, so we never have to drive anywhere at all. In Knoxville our hotel was on the opposite side of UT's campus from the sports center, so we couldn't walk to the pool without walking 1.5 miles across very busy streets lugging swim bags. It meant loading the girls up every time we had to go anywhere. Parking was a pain, both on campus for the meet and off campus at restaurants, so we spent a lot of time either dropping off the girls and then looking for a parking space, or wrangling my SUV into very small spaces.

The unfamiliarity with the area was a problem as well. We didn't know what restaurants were available, so it was much harder for the girls to make a decision about where they wanted to eat. They would change their minds several times before finally setting on what was usually the least convenient option.

Thankfully I did have several parents who were helping transport the girls; otherwise I would have had to do a lot of shuttling back and forth.

But probably most frustrating aspect of the trip was the involvement of other teams in our plans. You see, the swimming community in Memphis is very small. There aren't many pools available to host high school teams' practices during the swim season. The major pools already have year-round swimming programs that practice during the times of day that would be the best for everyone else, namely the hours right after school. These year-round programs are nice enough to allow the high school teams to utilize some of their pool space, but it benefits the year-round programs--we must pay them per swimmer, and the high school swimmers must actually JOIN the year-round team for the duration of the season. The times available for the high school swimmers to practice are much less convenient (for example, 7:00-8:30 at night), and many of the swimmers get so tired of the late nights that they join the year-round teams full-time so they can practice earlier in the day, which gets more money to the year-round teams.

The kids all know each other from the year-round swimming programs, so they are competing against teammates during the high school season. When we go to a big meet like the state championships, they wander around the meet looking for the year-round teammates rather than staying with their high school teams. Some of the girls have boyfriends who swim for other schools, so I have to go hunting for the boys' schools when it comes time to get in the water, because my girls are missing. They want to get all their friends on other high school teams together to go do things, like eat or watch movies, rather than stay with their own teammates for the whole weekend. And the year-round coaches don't help--they come to the meets, expect their swimmers to practice and warm-up as a year-round team, and encourage the kids to get together as a year-round team rather than as high school teams. It's incredibly distressing, but there's very little I can do about it. If I complain about too much year-round influence, I stand the possibility of losing my pool space to practice in.

I feel like I've been reduced to the job of chaperone rather than coach. If the year-round coaches want to have so much influence during the high school season, I think THEY should be the ones to go to all the meets, handle all the entries, and chaperone the trip. I did quite a bit to make the girls' trip run smoothly, but when they planned a "fun night" with their year-round buddies, no one told me about it, certainly no one asked me, and they clearly expected me to drive them where they wanted to go (it ended up falling through, but it irked me completely that they would have the nerve to expect such treatment).

I've had run-ins with year-round coaches before, but never has their influence so broadly affected my trip as this year. And the girls' behavior in running around with their friends and acting like divas (one was "dramatically" sick while she had to swim but perked right up when she didn't have to later that evening, and one supposedly dislocated her shoulder while warming down after a race, almost like she needed attention for something) should have been somewhat expected since it's a young state team (two seniors, one sophomore, four freshmen) but was really bothersome and seemed to drag the older girls into it as well.

While I was proud of how the girls swam, I spent the whole weekend really irritated and really tired. This is the first state meet since I started coaching high school (ninth season) that I didn't really have fun. It makes me question how much longer I want to coach a sport.

And then we get to the joke part of this rather long post. Now that the season is over, I sent an e-mail to our AD, asking about getting our stipend for the season. His e-mail response was, "I told the administration that you and [your assistant coach] would forgo your stipend this season."

No "JK!" or "LOL" or anything to indicate he might be kidding. He IS a kidder, somewhat, but usually there is something there to suggest it. I sent him my own "kidding" e-mail, with " :( *sniff* ", hoping to trigger a "No really, here's when you can expect to get paid", but I got nothing at all in return.

He'd better be joking. I give up nights and weekends for this sport, and I live 45 minutes from town which means a really long drive home, often late at night, after meets. I'd BETTER be getting paid for this. If not, it will easily answer my question about how long I want to keep coaching.

Well, I was completely unprepared for this morning's weigh-in.

197.4

Now, it isn't the weight that is surprising--it does equal my lowest weight since the beginning of the year, but it is certainly within the range of weights that I tend to expect from my whole "eat badly and don't work out" weight-loss plan.

What IS surprising is the fact that I weighed in this light after this past weekend. I was out of town with the team that I coach, and the weekend was full of nothing but eating out and either sitting or standing around the pool, watching athletes exert themselves and burn calories. The only exercise I got was walking a few blocks between the sports center and where I had parked the car. When I ate with the team, it was mostly full of bread, pasta, pizza, and other such high-calorie, high-fat foods. I even ate candy in the car on the drive home. So I fully expected to find myself at over 200 lbs when I weighed myself this morning, possibly even as high as 205.

Now, it is possible that this weigh-in is just really, really dehydrated. I did not drink nearly the water this weekend that I should have. But also it's that TOTM, and I would have thought I would be retaining water. So perhaps I really did better this weekend than I thought. I did at least eat more salad than I typically do.

Anyway, last week I did not get started on the "12 Weeks to Weight Loss" plan from About.com, due to a variety of excuses (funeral to attend, trip to plan, lessons for sub to arrange, all that jazz). So I am going to try starting this thing today. Here's what week one is supposed to look like:

Getting Started: The two things the plan suggested seemed pretty obvious--get a starting weight and get starting measurements. I guess the starting weight then would be today's, 197.4. I'd love to get down to below 150 lbs, which is almost a 50 lb drop. I also took some measurements at what I thought were spots that made sense.
Upper arm (r)-15 inches
Bust-46 inches
Chest-38 inches
Waist-39 inches
Belly-43 inches
Hips-48 inches
Upper thigh (r)-27 inches
Calf (r)-17 inches

While I don't know what the "ideal" measurements are supposed to be, I definitely want to trim these down. The plan suggested remeasuring every four weeks.

Day One: Interval Training (cardio)--after warming up for a few minutes, increase the resistance and speed and hold it for a minute, then decrease for a few minutes, and keep repeating for the duration of the workout. The plan also strongly encourages stretching to increase flexibility.

Day Two: Strength Training--start lifting weights, a full-body program, and also make sure you're doing ab workouts with crunches and such.

Day Three: Endurance (cardio)--after the warmup, you should slightly increase resistance and speed every few minutes throughout the duration of the workout.

Day Four: Strength Training--this is the same workout as Day Two. The plan also talks about Active Rest. Active Rest just means trying to inject a little more activity into your daily routine. It suggests stretching for about five minutes every hour, using part of your lunch period to take a short walk, and doing crunches or push-ups during commercial breaks on TV.

Day Five: Variety (cardio)--the suggestion here is to not do the same cardio machine every time. The plan suggests using a different machine, or doing circuit training, or going outside to walk/jog. This is going to be key for me, because I get really bored at the gym doing the same thing every time.

Day Six: Core Strength--find some new exercises to do to strength back and ab muscles. Use a medicine ball, exercise ball, or resistance band. The food suggestion of the day is also to clean out the pantry of "undesirable" foods, and substitute one "bad" thing you regularly eat with something healthier. The example they give is Coke--if you drink one every day, substitute water instead.

The plan gives you the seventh day off.

Anyway, I still need to lose as much weight as possible before Creek Week in mid-March. I will also be going home to San Diego for a few days at the beginning of that week, so I'd like to look better for that too. Sadly, that's only three weeks from now, so I doubt that I will be able to lose a whole lot. I really need to put some effort into this if I'm going to see any progress at all.

Some prayers are needed for one of my students and her family. Last night, the father of one of my sophomores was shot and killed in an argument over a parking space. I believe this student has some siblings, but her mother died when she was younger, so she is now an orphan. This is the sickest, most horrifying thing I can imagine. This little girl is very quiet and shy, and I am hard-pressed to identify who her friends in the class might be. I am an adult who has struggled to come to grips with losing a parent, and this child has now lost BOTH. Please keep this little one in your prayers.

This is one of many reasons I am so unsuccessful in dieting. When I eat out, I eat too much because that's what comes as the meal, and I was taught as a kid to be sure to clean my plate. But when I cook, I should be able to control the portions, right? Wrong.

Today's weigh-in: 199.6. I have made no progress whatsoever. And I'm running out of time...I need to shake some of this weight off before our kayaking trip in the middle of March. I've only got five weeks left. Yikes!

This may be the funniest thing I've ever read in my life, and it is a real letter, really sent to the president of Virgin Airlines. Enjoy.

Dear Mr Branson

REF: Mumbai to Heathrow 7th December 2008

I love the Virgin brand, I really do which is why I continue to use it despite a series of unfortunate incidents over the last few years. This latest incident takes the biscuit.

Ironically, by the end of the flight I would have gladly paid over a thousand rupees for a single biscuit following the culinary journey of hell I was subjected to at thehands of your corporation.

Look at this Richard. Just look at it: [see image 1, above].

I imagine the same questions are racing through your brilliant mind as were racing through mine on that fateful day. What is this? Why have I been given it? What have I done to deserve this? And, which one is the starter, which one is the desert?

You don’t get to a position like yours Richard with anything less than a generous sprinkling of observational power so I KNOW you will have spotted the tomato next to the two yellow shafts of sponge on the left. Yes, it’s next to the sponge shaft without the green paste. That’s got to be the clue hasn’t it. No sane person would serve a desert with a tomato would they. Well answer me this Richard, what sort of animal would serve a desert with peas in: [see image 2, above].

I know it looks like a baaji but it’s in custard Richard, custard. It must be the pudding. Well you’ll be fascinated to hear that it wasn't custard. It was a sour gel with a clear oil on top. It’s only redeeming feature was that it managed to be so alien to my palette that it took away the taste of the curry emanating from our miscellaneous central cuboid of beige matter. Perhaps the meal on the left might be the desert after all.

Anyway, this is all irrelevant at the moment. I was raised strictly but neatly by my parents and if they knew I had started desert before the main course, a sponge shaft would be the least of my worries. So lets peel back the tin-foil on the main dish and see what’s on offer.

I’ll try and explain how this felt. Imagine being a twelve year old boy Richard. Now imagine it’s Christmas morning and you’re sat their with your final present to open. It’s a big one, and you know what it is. It’s that Goodmans stereo you picked out the catalogue and wrote to Santa about.

Only you open the present and it’s not in there. It’s your hamster Richard. It’s your hamster in the box and it’s not breathing. That’s how I felt when I peeled back the foil and saw this: [see image 3, above].

Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking it’s more of that Baaji custard. I admit I thought the same too, but no. It’s mustard Richard. MUSTARD. More mustard than any man could consume in a month. On the left we have a piece of broccoli and some peppers in a brown glue-like oil and on the right the chef had prepared some mashed potato. The potato masher had obviously broken and so it was decided the next best thing would be to pass the potatoes through the digestive tract of a bird.

Once it was regurgitated it was clearly then blended and mixed with a bit of mustard. Everybody likes a bit of mustard Richard.
By now I was actually starting to feel a little hypoglycaemic. I needed a sugar hit. Luckily there was a small cookie provided. It had caught my eye earlier due to it’s baffling presentation: [see image 4, above].

It appears to be in an evidence bag from the scene of a crime. A CRIME AGAINST BLOODY COOKING. Either that or some sort of back-street underground cookie, purchased off a gun-toting maniac high on his own supply of yeast. You certainly wouldn’t want to be caught carrying one of these through customs. Imagine biting into a piece of brass Richard. That would be softer on the teeth than the specimen above.

I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was relax but obviously I had to sit with that mess in front of me for half an hour. I swear the sponge shafts moved at one point.

Once cleared, I decided to relax with a bit of your world-famous onboard entertainment. I switched it on: [see image 5, above].
I apologise for the quality of the photo, it’s just it was incredibly hard to capture Boris Johnson’s face through the flickering white lines running up and down the screen. Perhaps it would be better on another channel: [see image 6, above].

Is that Ray Liotta? A question I found myself asking over and over again throughout the gruelling half-hour I attempted to watch the film like this. After that I switched off. I’d had enough. I was the hungriest I’d been in my adult life and I had a splitting headache from squinting at a crackling screen.

My only option was to simply stare at the seat in front and wait for either food, or sleep. Neither came for an incredibly long time. But when it did it surpassed my wildest expectations: [see image 7, above].

Yes! It’s another crime-scene cookie. Only this time you dunk it in the white stuff.

Richard…. What is that white stuff? It looked like it was going to be yoghurt. It finally dawned on me what it was after staring at it. It was a mixture between the Baaji custard and the Mustard sauce. It reminded me of my first week at university. I had overheard that you could make a drink by mixing vodka and refreshers. I lied to my new friends and told them I’d done it loads of times. When I attempted to make the drink in a big bowl it formed a cheese Richard, a cheese. That cheese looked a lot like your baaji-mustard.

So that was that Richard. I didn’t eat a bloody thing. My only question is: How can you live like this? I can’t imagine what dinner round your house is like, it must be like something out of a nature documentary.

As I said at the start I love your brand, I really do. It’s just a shame such a simple thing could bring it crashing to its knees and begging for sustenance.

Yours Sincererly
XXXX