Monthly Archives: February 2011

Did you love your mother and father…

>…and do Psalms do it for you?

I’m really uncertain how the two halves of this question go together. Really uncertain. This is probably in large part due to my largely secular upbringing and current theological stance. I know that there is a commandment about ‘loving thy mother and father’ somewhere in the Bible along with a bunch of other rules about humping your neighbour’s ass and how taking the Lord’s name in vain is a bajillion times worse than any of the cuss words I could invent. I even know there are plenty more commandments than the ten that Moses harped on about after talking to the burning bush of burning bushiness. But I have no idea where in the Bible they are. The commandments aren’t in Psalms, are they?

I KNOW that’s Charlton Heston… but doesn’t Moses look a little like Will Ferrell?

I love my mother and father very much. And not just did (as the question puts it), but do. And although there were times in my young life when I was very, very angry with them both for reasons I don’t feel like blogging about… I am not any more. And I’m so grateful for that.

I’m grateful that I was able to not just repair my relationship with my moms, but to actually come to love her and appreciate her even more than I did when I was a kid and she was all-powerful and all-knowing (she would, of course, argue that she still is). She means the world to me, and sometimes it frightens me that we may have been lost to each other forever. That would have been a real tragedy. She’s my rock.

I’m grateful that I was on very good terms with my dad before he passed away… before the time came when I wouldn’t have the chance to forgive him, stop being so angry, and get to know him as an adult. He was never a perfect TV dad, but he was my dad, and the best that I could ask for.

Dr. Jason Roland Seaver = great TV dad. Fact.


AH HA HA HA. Okay. I thought I knew at least some of the Psalms. And I do… the ‘Lord is my shepherd that makes the death valley grass green and stuff so I don’t have to be afraid’ bit. Which is Psalm 23, if you are curious. But the way I remember it? Mashed together with bits from Ezekiel 25 (I CLEARLY don’t go to church)….


Seriously though – love my moms and dad. Not so sure about Psalms. I’m sure they’re alright once you get to know them.
PS: The commandment about yer ma and pa is in Matthew 19:19, if you care.

No beer and no pizza make Jodi something something…

Actually, to be honest? It hasn’t been all that bad. Or that hard.

So, just following on from my previous post when I talked about the changes I had made starting this year and how they are going.

I’ve had no problems whatsoever with the alcohol aversion, other than having to constantly explain to people why I would do this to myself. I don’t even miss it. And I am LOVING the hangoverless mornings. Fact.

Worth noting is that while we were in Vegas (work thang) I didn’t follow my rules. The No Drinking Rule has the “out of the country” exception so I did take advantage of that a wee bit… and I just wanted a Slurpee so badly the sugar thing had to go too.

I wasn’t as bad as I thought I was going to be (or as I could have been). I had drinks, but didn’t get drunk. I ate whatever I wanted… but not too much or too bad (except that first night meal at Dennys. YOWZA.)

Other than Vegas though, I’ve been sticking with it.

On the food front, things are going well. I’ve only had a couple of mornings since the beginning of January where I have wanted to punch breakfast right in the cock. Some mornings are hard! I found that it was the worst when I didn’t get enough sleep or ate really, really late the night before. Most mornings though it is no problem. If I’m being lazy (or woke up late) I just have a couple of eggs and I’m sorted.

The rest of the food thing is going well too. I think the Saturday gorge-a-thons are really, really helping with that. Before, I would have the restrictions in place every single day, and after a few weeks I’d implode and eat a pizza. And then I would slide right back into my old habits… usually very quickly.  Now, if I crave something that I’m not supposed to eat, I just say to myself, “Patience, my pretty. Patience. Soon it will be Saturday.”  This Saturday was about eating mashed potatoes. I wanted them so badly I would have killed a kitten for them.

Other than the time in Vegas (and the jet-lagged work week full of training the new peeps following it) I have been an utter rock fucking star about going to the gym at lunch. I do some core training on Mondays and Fridays… and the rest of the time I just run around like an idiot on a treadmill.  I even went swimming last week.


One of the ‘core training’ exercises that I’m doing is a two-hand “Russian” kettlebell swing. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, this chick in this video demonstrates it pretty well:

I’m using a 20kg kettlebell and currently doing 5 sets of 15 reps, trying to work my way up to just doing 75 straight reps with the damned thing.

This is hard.

On Monday, after the first 15, I thought I was going to throw up or pass out. Most likely both. I had to put the stupid weight down and pace about for a good two minutes before I was ready to even think about picking it up again.

I was sore for the next three days, with Wednesday being the worst. On Wednesday, sitting down caused me pain. SITTING.

The good news is that when I did it again on Friday, although I still thought I might throw up after the first set, it was much easier and two days later I’m not sore. HOORAH!


Something I’ve learned about me and exercise: Like fuck I’m going to do it first thing in the morning. NO NO NO. So I’m not even going to try it any more. It is stricken off my list of things to do.

I’ve not been doing evenings either… but I may try that one again once it is lighter later. We’ll see. As long as I keep the gym sessions, I’m not too fussed.

I’ve been sleeping great. GREAT! I don’t think I have ever said that in my life ever. I think the melatonin and magnesium is helping… but so is the exercise and the fact that I’m not eating so much shit.

Overall, this experiment is working. My weight is slowing dropping, so are inches. Which is good. And my energy is up. Also good. I sleep better – excellent. And the best part is that I just feel better in general. Happier. And seeing how at this time a year ago I was the most stressed, angry and unhappy that I had ever been (and, although I didn’t know it then, just a few weeks off from being hospitalised)… I think being happier and less stressed is the best thing in the world right now. Awesome.

*I realised after posting that some people may not get what the post title is referring to. Which is sad. SAD. If you don’t know what I’m referencing, watch this clip. (Sorry about all the Hulu shit… I’m hoping that the heavy advertising means they won’t take the clip down…)

And if you don’t know which movie the Simpsons are parodying in that clip, well… there is nothing more I can do for you. You are obviously a culturally retarded cave dweller and I have nothing more to say to you.

Could you lie down and take a rest on a sidewalk?

I have been tired enough that I have felt like I *could* lie down on the sidewalk and sleep (I mean, to the point where I’ve seriously contemplated it), but I haven’t ever done it. And I don’t think I could. Even exhausted, I think I would be jumpy about trying to sleep in a place like that.

Shoot. I’m bad about getting to sleep in my own bed (exhausted or not). I don’t think I’d be able to shut down enough to ever sleep on a random sidewalk.