Happy Halloween everyone! I got really creative this year and put a lot of effort into a costume. Can you guess what I am?

You’re right! I’m an undecided voter. And I lied, I only put about five minutes of effort into this costume. I already had the Obama shirt, and rather than contribute to McCain’s campaign by purchasing a button, I just printed the image on cardstock, laminated it and stuck it to my shirt with velcro. Believe me, it pains me to even wear it, but it’s all in the name of halloween right? Actually it’s in the name of having a good excuse to wear jeans to work. Undecided voters always wear jeans. Obviously.

Last year I was a gym teacher just so I could wear sweat pants to work. Apparently for me Halloween is all about being as comfortable and casual as possible. Or really I’m just lazy.

Also, tomorrow is November and you know what that means. Nablopomo! This will be my third year participating so I hope you’ll follow along.

When I moved back to GR last year, for some reason I put on weight. About twenty pounds of weight actually. One day this past spring I was shopping some serious discounts and found four pairs of dress pants for four bucks each. But I had to buy them all in a size larger than I had worn since the infamous freshman fifteen. I was actually okay with that, I don’t have serious body issues. But I did try a few times to eat better or exercise more, hoping to eventually get back down to a weight I was more comfortable with. All attempts failed.

Enter the heartbreaking end to a three and a half year relationship in July. Turns out depression is the key to weight loss. For about a month I ate little more than frozen blueberries and hot tea. For a month after that I could still only eat about a third of what I had eaten daily before the breakup. In two months I lost twenty pounds. I was back down to what I weighed before moving back here.

I thought my September cruise would be the end of it. I ate a lot that week and assumed my stomach would stretch back out and I’d get my appetite back, along with a few pounds. But it’s now nearing the end of October and I haven’t gained any of it back. My appetite has returned, though I’ve noticed that I still eat less than I did before.

Lest you think I am at all advocating for this kind of weight loss plan, believe me, I am not. Though I will probably make an effort from now on to eat less and better than I did previously, I know that my dramatic drop in pounds was not healthy. And most likely I will start to gain some of it back unless I make a serious attempt to keep it off. With winter coming, I don’t see that happening.

It’s kind of humorous though. The other day I put on a pair of dress pants that I used to wear all the time. I buttoned and zipped them up, and then just laughed. They were huge! I could literally pull them off, fully fastened, over my hips. And I’ve got some hefty hips even when I do lose weight. So now, because I refuse to go shopping, I have to wear everything with belts. I look sort of ridiculous because the pants are cinched around the waist but clearly too big in the thighs and booty. I’m a fashion disaster right now. Oh and those “size big” clearance pants I bought last spring? I hadn’t worn them yet because they are kind of thick and more of a wintery material, and now I can’t even make use of them

The other thing that amuses me is that I don’t think you can even really tell (other than the baggy clothes). When I wear clothes that fit (like jeans I haven’t been able to wear in over a year!), nobody says, Dang girl! You lost weight! If you’ve been reading for awhile, you’ll recall that I kind of hate when people comment on my weight, so I don’t mind the lack of attention. But in the past, when I would lose even five pounds (to be quickly gained back later that week), people would notice and comment. Now I’ve lost twenty and probably only four people have said anything. This could be because they know I dislike the comments, but my theory is that you just can’t tell. I’ve looked at pictures of me from earlier this year, at the height of my weight gain, and I really don’t see a drastic difference. A difference yes, but I always see those ads for diet supplements and they’re all “LOST 22 POUNDS!” and the before picture shows a rather rotund woman, while the after picture shows her, now seriously skinny, wearing her old pants and holding the waistline out about twelve inches. With me it’s more like, yeah I guess her gut isn’t sticking out quite as much. And maybe her thighs aren’t quite as chunky. If it weren’t for my bathroom scale and my baggy clothes, I’m not sure I’d even know I was lighter than three months ago.

Okay. In looking for pictures to use for demonstration, I found very few full-body shots of me. I had to go back to April to find a comparison photo. The most recent full-body shot I have is from September. April is on the left, September on the right:

I think side by side like this, it’s noticeable. But when I gained the weight, I didn’t really feel that much bigger. And now that it’s gone, I don’t feel much smaller. Regardless, the point is that it took two and a half months of depression and anxiety to drop my excess poundage. I think it will take little more than a few unnecessary bowls of ice cream to gain it back. Both sides of that coin seem so unfair.

I’m not sure exactly what this award is called, but when someone gives you a blog award, you can’t help but show it off. Hillary (with two L’s please) honored me with this funky-looking lady.

She said it’s for “working her way through a broken heart with grace and honesty.” Why thank you Hillary, I’m certainly trying. Seriously though, what the hell is that thing? An angel in an evening gown standing on a giant pheasant quill? Whatever, I still appreciate it.

I don’t know who to pass this along to because I don’t really know what it stands for. But let’s just say that anyone who has commented or emailed or called or gmail-chatted with me in the past three months to offer comfort and friendship… this one’s for you.

Don’t leave. You’ve found the same doahleigh you always enjoy reading. It just looks a little different.

Brad custom designed this new look for me earlier this year, but under the circumstances I haven’t made the switch until now. At first I just didn’t care about a pretty new site design because my heart was broken and the man who broke it is the same one who made the pretty new site design for me. Then I just kind of forgot about it with everything else I had going on.

But now my broken heart is on the mend, and the recent broken widget reminded me that I had this design just waiting to be launched. So here it is!

I asked for something clean with three columns, and Brad basically came up with the rest. He even came up with the idea for the rotating banner at the top. I selected some of my photos, cropped them to the right dimensions, and he used some kind of html magic to make it so a different banner pops up every time you visit or load a new page. Fun!

Not everything is complete yet, but take a look around and please let me know if you come across any problems. Isn’t it pretty?

I have gotten a couple emails letting me know that some funky things are happening with comments on this site. It looks like some of you are getting through just fine while others are getting failure messages. One person was even told my blog didn’t exist when she tried to visit! Unacceptable.

We in Doahleigh Land are taking a look at things, but we need your help. If you have any weird issues while reading, navigating or trying to comment on this site, please email me at doahleigh [at] doahleigh [dot] com.

I hate to think I’m missing out on any of your brilliant comments, so please help a girl out and let me know if you run into problems.

Well it took over a year, but I finally tried another drink on my Drinks That Could Be My Drink list (see Taste Test 1 here). I pretty much forgot about the list, but mostly it’s because I seriously never drink. Rarely. And if I do I go with one of my standby beers.

In the middle of the turmoil that followed the break up, Robin happened to be free one Friday night because her boyfriend was in Ireland. So we went out for a drink. In an attempt to try new things, I dug up the old list and decided to order something from it. After asking if this particular bar made mojitos and getting an unenthusiastic “meh” I went with the Bacardi Raz with Sprite. Only I switched the Bacardi for some sort of vodka that Robin recommended. Robin ordered a Blue Moon.

When our drinks came to the table, I stirred mine, took one sip, and looked at Robin in horror. Not good. This is definitely not my drink. I immediately made her try it because I was sure there was something wrong. Perhaps they accidently gave me Isopropyl and Sprite? But Robin only sipped it and laughed - the drink was just fine. It’s me that has something wrong. Like deranged taste buds. When the taste test results in swapping drinks after one sip…

…you know you haven’t found your drink yet. I’ll keep looking.

Raspberry Vodka & Sprite 
Sampled: 8-22-08
Rated: 1/10
Served in a glass with ice and a stirrer. As already described, it tasted like Isopropyl (because I know what that tastes like) and a splash of Sprite. I won’t be giving this one a second chance.

Drinks That Could Be My Drink
xSmirnoff Ice, Raspberry
Amaretto Sour
Long Island Iced Tea
Michelob Ultra with green olives
Mojito
Banfi Rosa Regale
Blue Lagoon
xTom Collins
Midori Sour
Malibu Pineapple
White Russian (Malibu instead of vodka)
xBacardi Raz with Sprite
Malibu with Cranberry & twist of lime
Ace Pear Cider
Woodchuck Cider, Pear
Woodchuck Cider, Raspberry
Bellini
Sangria
xVodka and Cranberry

(If you have anything you think I should add to the list, let me know.)

This is a conversation I overheard awhile ago, but because it’s one of my favorite topics, it stuck in my head.

Guy: So did you hear what Robert Benson’s* new last name is?

Girl: Robert Benson has a new last name?

Guy: Robert Moon-Benson.

Girl: He took her last name! What? I’ve never heard of the guy taking the girl’s last name.

Guy: Me neither!

Girl: Why did he do that?

Guy: Because Marie made him.

Girl: Well is she at least Marie Moon-Benson?

Guy: Yeah, but I just think it’s so funny. Who does that?

Girl: I know, I’ve never heard of the guy taking the girl’s last name!

Yeah thanks, you already said that. You’ve never heard of it, it’s shocking and unorthodox, we get it. My favorite part is the part about how Marie made him do it. Like he had no choice in the matter.

Wait, maybe my favorite part is when she asked if Marie at least changed her name too. Because god forbid if she didn’t! What a disgrace that would be. I mean a woman can hyphenate her name with no expectation that the man will do the same, but the other way around? You better be hyphenating too missy, it’s only fair. You know since you made him do it and all.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I have always had this bizarre fantasy that involves a grocery store. (No not that kind of fantasy. Although…) Sometimes when I walk down the aisles of neatly organized boxes and bottles and jars and bags, I have this urge to completely demolish the neatness.

I’m usually a pretty organized person, but there’s something about all those aisles of organization that make me want to create chaos. Maybe it’s because I know how completely messy it could get, what with all the syrups, the eggs, the liquids, the powders, the potential for an utter mess of slippery, sticky, crumbly disgustingness. In my fantasy I always assume someone else will be cleaning up. Obviously.

Well last night my fantasy finally came true. Sort of. I had a long detailed dream that I was involved in a contest—the winner was the person who could make the biggest mess of the aisles in their grocery store in the allotted time. It was like Supermarket Sweep except instead of throwing everything into a cart, I threw it all on the floor. I made full-sweeps of shelves with outstretched arms; I ripped open bags of flour and boxes of cereal; I stomped on cartons of yogurt and dumped gallons of milk; I kicked down displays of Snack Packs and toppled stands of produce; I emptied the freezer compartments and smashed jars of pickles.

The dream was so long and detailed that I saw myself go up and down every single aisle—dairy, produce, meat, dry goods, household products—causing absolute destruction. And it was SO incredibly satisfying! I don’t normally write about dreams here, but this one was so realistic and so gratifying, I think it has to be symbolic of something.

If I had dreamed that something else was causing the destruction and it was my job to clean it up, I might say that means my life is in shambles and now it’s up to me to get it in order. But it was me causing the mess. And I liked it! So I have two questions for you all:

1. What does this dream say about me?

2. Can anyone arrange for this to happen for me in real life?

I have the coolest long-distance friends in the world. This time my good friend Jess made a two-hour drive (actually it was more than that because of road construction – I’m sorry friend!) to visit me on Saturday. She was staying over night, but she couldn’t even carry her overnight bag up to my apartment because she was lugging a giant tub full of my favorite things: candy, Pepsi and cereal.

Whenever I have an out-of-town guest, I feel the need to show them all that GR has to offer, but the truth is I’m a terrible host. Good thing Jess was totally cool with sitting around my apartment most of the time. We did go out for dinner Saturday night, but then jammied up and hunkered down (hi Jen – did I get that right?) to watch a movie at home. Sunday she got to meet the whole family when we went to breakfast for mom’s birthday. Then since it was an incredibly beautiful day, we went for a walk in the park and sweated our asses off because it was so hot. In October. I’m not complaining!

Some of my awesomest friends are people who live far away from me. I can think of at least seven people who I would love to convince to move closer to me. Several of them are single too (unlike ALL my friends here who FALLING IN LOVE ALL OVER THE PLACE!), so I know we could have a lot of fun doing single girl stuff together. Can you guys all move here please? Or maybe we could find a central place and relocate there together? How does Denver sound?

In addition to my visit from Jess, I had a very busy and very fun weekend. Friday night my sister Emily came down to have dinner, hang out and see a movie with me. Since she moved, we get very little Brownie time together (she and I are the Brownies because we have brown hair, Andrea and Kelli are the Blondies because, well, they have blond hair), so it was a nice evening. Soon after she left, Kelli came over and we stayed up talking until almost 3am. Saturday we both got up and met the whole family at an orchard to do the pumpkin/apple/donut/cider thing, then she and I went out for a drink. My baby sister is 21 as of a few weeks ago, so I did the big sister thing and bought her a beer. Then we stopped at the mall before getting home in time for Jess’ arrival.

After breakfast on Sunday, I strapped myself down at my desk and worked on homework for a couple hours. School is kind of kicking my ass this semester. I was planning to spend this Saturday doing hardcore research for two big papers I have to write, then I remembered I have an all day seminar to attend. So it looks like Sunday is research day and my weekend is shot. Not cool, school. Not cool.

The post-cruise bliss has officially faded. I’m feeling low again. But this time I think it has more to do with sleep deprivation than anything else. Allow me to detail my last two nights and you’ll see what I mean:

Tuesday night I watched the debate and went to bed around 11. I couldn’t sleep, so I read a book for a couple hours. I still couldn’t sleep, so I got online for awhile. Still couldn’t sleep so I read some more. Around 4:30 I thought, “If I fall asleep right now, I can still get two and a half hours of sleep before work.” But I tossed and turned until about 5:30 when I gave up. At that point I figured there was no way I was going to work, so I just sat up and read until 6:30 when I called in sick. I finally fell asleep a little after 7. I was awake until SEVEN IN THE MORNING! And I wasn’t even doing anything!

I slept until 11, then got up and spent the day doing homework. So on just four hours of sleep, you’d think I’d be crawling to bed last night right? Yeah, no.

I went to bed again around 11 thinking I was tired, but I could not get comfortable. I read until 12:30, trying to make myself tired. Finally I thought maybe a change of venue would help, so I went out to the couch. I flipped through magazines until I finally fell asleep with an Utne Reader across my chest at around 2. Robin’s serenade of alarms (she seriously has three different alarms going off at varying intervals for about an hour and a half—tell her she’s crazy) woke me up a little after 6. Another four hours of sleep.

I can’t go on like this, but I really don’t know what to do. Missing sleep and being tired makes everything seem worse. So even if I’m only a little sad, I feel really sad. If I’m a little lonely, I feel terribly lonely. If I’m only slightly gloomy, I feel like I’m covered in dark grey clouds.

And it’s sunny and gorgeous here today. I don’t want any damn clouds!

Friday was our last full day on the cruise. It was also Castaway Cay: Disney’s Private Island! Day. I’ll admit, I wasn’t very excited about this one. I pictured extreme lameness and way too much cheer. But seriously, Disney rocks at making sure the adults are accommodated for (and kept far from children if that’s what they prefer).

We had breakfast in one of the ship’s nicest restaurants. I couldn’t decide what to get, so I ordered oatmeal with brown sugar, an English muffin, yogurt with fruit and granola, orange juice and hot chocolate. It was all delicious. The best part is that we were told the fruit in the fruit and yogurt was “mostly melon” which didn’t sound good to us. We asked if maybe they could find us some berries instead. A few minutes later our server came back with two bowls of the most delicious fresh berries in the world.

We got ready for the day and headed off the ship. There were stands of food and free ice cream machines everywhere, but we weren’t at all hungry yet. So instead we took the trolley to the private adult beach. No kids allowed, which was great for me. We got lucky and found two empty hammocks right on the beach, so we plopped down and fell into total relaxation mode again. One of my favorite things to do is chill in a hammock on a nice day with a good book. I don’t own a hammock so I rarely get to do this, which made this day even more wonderful.

After some reading and a little nap, we got up and waded in the water. Erica got the brilliant idea to go for a long walk to explore the beach and rocky peninsula. I told her to have fun and laid back down in my hammock. She was gone for a long time while I read and relaxed some more. I was just starting to get restless when she showed up and suggested we go find some lunch. We ran into some bad timing though because all the food places shut down at 2 for some reason, and we got there just in time for Erica to snatch some chicken before they shut the gates. I went to the pizza place, hoping to grab a slice before they shut down, and instead was told they didn’t even open until 2:30. That is poor planning in my opinion. What if someone is hungry between 2:00 and 2:30? There’s nothing to eat! So I watched Erica eat until I could get my pizza. We wanted ice cream too, but guess what. They shut down all the ice cream stations too! I hated Disney a little bit in that moment. In lieu of ice cream, we walked around for awhile, then decided to head back to the ship. On the way we took some pictures of the Flying Dutchman, the prop ship used in the second Pirates of the Caribbean film.

Back on board we decided to hit the pool for awhile since we hadn’t spent much time there yet. The pool was nice, but unfortunately the hot tubs were broken and barely lukewarm. We didn’t linger long and soon went back to the stateroom to get ready for dinner. It was a “dress-up optional” night, so we put on dresses and heals and got to eat in one of the fancy restaurants. I couldn’t decide between the beef and the halibut, so I asked our server for advice. He lead me to the beef, which sounded fine to me. But then when our meals came, he surprised me by bringing me both! Unfortunately it was way too much food so I couldn’t enjoy it all.

Dinner was followed by another broadway-style show, which was so impressive. They’re short—only an hour—but they’re very entertaining. We thought about staying in our fancy get-ups for awhile longer, but if you want the cruise line to take your bags off the ship, you have to put them out the night before de-boarding. So we went casual and spent the rest of the night wandering the ship, taking more pictures, eating free (and completely unnecessary) pizza. We went to bed late, satisfied with our three-day adventure. Saturday morning we grabbed a quick breakfast on board, then got off to head to the airport. Our plane didn’t leave for hours, so we just hung out in the airport forever. We started our day at 7am, and I didn’t get back to my apartment until 11pm. It was a long day of travel, but so worth it.

I’m really glad I decided to go on this trip.

Thursday was Nassau day. After a buffet breakfast, we packed up our stuff and got off the ship. Erica had a day-pass to the Sandals resort on the island, so we decided to spend our day there rather than shopping or getting our hair braided (you wouldn’t believe how many people actually did this). We wandered the streets for awhile trying to figure out how we were even going to get across the island to the resort, until we finally asked a friendly-looking local who directed us find Bus 10. Bus 10 turned out to be a rickety jitney with no door. We asked the bus driver if he could take us to Sandals and he said, “Sure” which had us questioning if we were indeed getting on the right bus. When he complimented my “pretty eyes” I got a little worried. Where exactly was he taking us? But it was only a dollar for the 20 minute ride, so we figured what the hell. Fortunately there was a nice local business man on the bus who reassured us we were on the right jitney and even yelled to the driver to make sure we stopped at the resort.

It was incredibly easy to gain access to Sandals. The gate guard didn’t even check for our pass, and once we showed it to reception, we never had to show it again. Without a pass, we could have lied to the guard, walked right past reception, and enjoyed all the free food and booze anyway. After checking out the pools and posh resort buildings, we took the passenger speed boat to a quiet island. We got free drinks at the bar (strawberry daiquiri for me – so tropical!) and immediately found a private cabana near the water where we plopped down for a couple hours. Erica took off on a photo excursion, but I read my book and napped until she came back. Then we went to the beach and swam for awhile. The water was perfect. I had been in the ocean before, but that was the first time I actually swam in it. It was just like you’d imagine the Caribbean waters to be—clear, blue and comfortably tepid.

[After our swim.]

We spent awhile longer at the cabana, then ate (free) lunch at the island restaurant. Also, there was a freezer with tubs of Edy’s chocolate and vanilla ice cream from which we helped ourselves to generous portions. Oh, and if you’re thinking that Sandals is that place for couples only, you’d be right. I’m sure everyone assumed we were lesbians, which was fine with us. We probably should have held hands at lunch just to play along. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me anyway – I was too busy enjoying the gorgeous weather in the amazing tropical location.

[Me and my daquiri. Photo courtesy of Erica.]

We explored the island a little after lunch, found another cabana to chill in for awhile, then hopped the shuttle boat back to the main island. After another quick tour of the property, we headed out to catch the number 10 back to port. This time the jitney was full so I thought we’d have to stand in the aisle. Nope! The nice people on the bus popped down these fold-up chairs that were connected to the regular seats, and we filled in the aisles. When someone in the back had to get off, we all had stand up, fold up the seats and file out.

[On the crowded jitney.]

Back on the ship, I sat by the pool for awhile, then we got ready for dinner. We had missed our scheduled seating time, so we went to one of the open-seating restaurants instead. It was actually nice because it was quiet and we got a view of the water. After dinner we saw a broadway-style show in the ship’s big theatre, then joined everyone on the upper decks for a pirate party. We didn’t participate much, but it was fun to watch kids and adults alike acting like frickin’ fools! To culminate the party, they had a fireworks show, after which we hit the coffee shop. We thought it would be nice to take warm delicious drinks out to the promenade at night, but turns out Disney does not know how to make a decent mocha. We sat on the promenade and choked down a few sips anyway. That was one of my favorite moments. Everyone else was on the upper decks, in their rooms or elsewhere on the ship, so the promenade was calm and quiet. It was so peaceful with the light breeze, listening to the boat move through the water.

At night, it’s fun to just walk around the ship and see what’s going on. We caught a few minutes of a Pirates movie on the outdoor screen while Erica ate late night pizza; we perused the gift shops which stay open surprisingly late; we walked through the art gallery, the lounges, the lobby, the outer decks. When we tired of that, we went back to our room and ordered room service just because it’s free. Chocolate cake, fruit salad, and an international cheese plate! It was a really full day and we stayed up far too late trying to take it all in, but the whole time, we were just so happy to even be there.

Coming up next: me, the beach, a hammock and a good book.

I’m going to try to keep it light around here and only talk about my cruise for a couple days. That way maybe I can sort of pretend like I’m still there for awhile longer, instead of here dealing with the stuff of real life.

Our trip was a little like Planes, Trains and Automobiles. We drove a car to Detroit, rode a shuttle to the airport, took moving walkways through the terminal, flew on a plane to Orlando, took a van to the hotel and back to the airport the next day, road a coach bus to Port Canaveral, lived on a cruise ship for three days, rode a jitney across Nassau, took a speedboat to the Sandals island, and rode trolleys around Disney’s private island. So many modes of transportation! Not to mention all the walking and swimming we did.

Tuesday we drove to Detroit and flew to Orlando where we stayed the night. Wednesday we went back to the airport and took our transfer to Port Canaveral. The first day on the ship we spent most of the afternoon giving ourselves a tour. By the way, did I mention this was a Disney cruise? It probably wouldn’t have been my first choice of cruise lines, and I was a little wary of the potential for kid overload, but it turned out to be really cool. It wasn’t a stuffy upscale ship, but it wasn’t a crazy party cruise either. It was the perfect in-between experience with just a few too many Disney characters thrown in. The ship (Disney Magic) was incredible. We had so much fun checking everything out—the pools, the bars, the restaurants, the lounges, the promenade, the theatres.

After our lengthy tour we went to a deck party, then to dinner. The food all week was pretty good. I wouldn’t say amazing, but definitely better than anything I eat on regular basis. Plus there was a free 24-hour ice cream station, so nothing else mattered a whole lot. We hung out on the upper decks and the promenade for a couple hours after dinner, but we were both so exhausted that we ended up in bed pretty early that night. Before bed though, we went to the indoor movie theatre and watched a showing of Enchanted which was, as we repeatedly described to each other, SO cheesy!

[That's me at the deck party. Photo courtesy of Erica.]

Our stateroom was surprisingly spacious. We had an inside cabin, and Erica had me prepped for living in a large closet for a few days. But what we found was comfy and offered plenty of room to move around, lounge and unpack. The lack of a window meant it was completely black at night, which actually helped me sleep better. I’ve since tacked an opaque blanket over the window in my room (classy I know) in hopes that a darker room will help me sleep better at home too.

That first day was hard for Erica because the rocky seas got to her stomach. It was comically windy which made walking around the upper decks a laughable matter, and it also made for a wobbly ship. Everyone was walking around like they were drunk because the boat kept throwing us into each other and against walls. Since my stomach was spared, thank god, I just found the whole thing funny. It was a hard day for me for a different reason though. For some reason I just could not shake this sadness that was plaguing me. The day before we left I was jittery with excitement and it felt amazing to be happy and excited again. But that first day on the ship I just couldn’t block out the blues. I tried everything to cheer myself up, but I knew I just needed to wait for it to go away. Fortunately by the next afternoon I was feeling happy again and the rest of the trip was nothing but smiles.

Coming up next: our perfect day at Sandals.