Confessions of a Ukeaholic

My name is Sandra (aka Kanela) and I am a Ukeaholic. I'm not a very good one yet, but I am good at finger-synching (similar to lip-synching, but with more moveable parts involved). 

My love for the ukulele began when I lived in Hawaii and often went to Don Ho's nightclub in the International Marketplace. As you can see from this picture, Don and I were good hoalohas (meaning friends or beloved companions - you can form your own conclusion. Just keep in mind my humorous writing is usually 95% fiction and 5% fact). 

Fast forward a few years (perhaps 50 or more) and you will find me strumming with a fun group called The Ukeaholics. Depending on the weather, we either meet in a library or in a park every Thursday for two hours. Wine is often involved which makes me sound better, at least in my own mind! 

We often perform at assisted living facilities for the residents. Two of our most requested songs are Sweet Caroline and Beer Barrel Polka. Go figure! Our repertoire is quite extensive and varied. My personal favorite is Pearly Shells. Good friend, Don, taught me how to sing the chorus in Hawaiian. Perhaps someday I'll be brave enough to sing it in public. 

I've made a June Resolution to practice playing my ukulele more. I want to be good enough to play in my son-in-law's band, consisting of Brandon playing any stringed instrument and seven year old granddaughter, Eliza, on vocals. Eliza named the group The Flying Cupcakes! My favorite daughter, Jessica, is in charge of PR and the designing and selling of merch. 

Well, time to go practice. My two songs for this week chosen by The Ukeaholics leader extraordinaire, Peggy, are Plastic Jesus and The Wayward Wind. Paul Newman actually sings Plastic Jesus in Cool Hand Luke.

Before I leave you, if you ever meet me in person, ask me why The Ukeaholics have designated Knock Three Times to be my song. I'll try to explain without blushing.

In conclusion, I'll leave you with a George Bernard Shaw quote, often used by Peggy: We don't stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing. 

My Call To Action for you is to play more and comment below about how you played more. The funniest G-rated idea wins freedom from menehune tricks "played" on them.

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Unpunished Good Deed

Attack Chairs

Seeking some privacy and comfort in a crowded mall to make a phone call, I selected a dormant massage chair. All was well until a chair service person came to check out the furniture (and perhaps me, too). There were six chairs, and all except mine were unoccupied. Since I was talking on the phone, I couldn't carry on a conversation with Mr. Cute Tech Guy. As he was leaving, I heard him say to enjoy the free massage.

The chair immediately started erupting. Metal rods swept back and forth across my back. With full disclosure, I have my own metal rods internally supporting my spine from recent back surgery. I don't think this massage chair would be approved by my surgeon, Dr. Pedro Aguilar. The chair rods hurt a lot!

In addition to back torture, a boa constrictor attached itself to each of my legs and tried to squeeze the life out of them. Who knew that South Hills Village Mall was a natural habitat for these fearsome, muscular terrorists?

You may be asking why I didn't stop the mechanical beast. Good question. The simple answer is that none of the controls worked, probably because the cute tech guy never did test/service my chair. 

You may be wondering why I just didn't get up and walk away. That answer is not so simple. The chair was in a semi-reclined position. I'm not physically able to use either arm for leverage (severe arthritis). I couldn't pull my legs out of the strangle hold gripping them. I kept trying to keep my back from touching the chair's out of control pummeling. All the while, I'm trying to maintain a normal conversation with a Verizon Wireless customer service agent. If you've ever tried to reach a live agent anywhere, you will know why I didn't hang up and call back later. My voice was rising in volume and pitch as I was shouting at the agent that I did not want to hear about new phones or new plans or take a survey at the end of our conversation. She asked me if I was having a bad day at work! Laughing hysterically, I hung up. 

I hope you are wondering how I escaped the chair. That answer is easy. The chair finally stopped on its own.

I felt rather foolish about the whole incident, but when I shared this story with a friend, she told me the exact same thing happened to her friend. I think mall massage chairs should come with warnings. They hurt and they are definitely not relaxing.

In conclusion, I would like to punish the tech guy for his good deed. If you have had a similar battle with a mall massage, I would love to hear your story. Feel free to email me or comment below. I'm feeling slightly bruised right now, both physically and emotionally, so a little sympathy would go a long way. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Sixty-one

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Cargo Safety Nets

If you're like me, life has frequently fly-swatted you to the ground, down for the count. My East Coast son just enlightened me. All these years, I've been performing my death-defying stunts of working, playing, eating, sleeping, breathing, etc., all without benefit of a cargo safety net to protect me.

So moving forward, I'm going to commission DuPont to design a custom fitted Kevlar Cargo Net outfit to be worn on especially dangerous days. Since I'm smaller than a truck, I don't believe it will be cost prohibitive. I could have chosen nylon instead of Kevlar (too wimpy) or polyester (too itchy) or polypropylene (too polypropyleney). However, polypropylene is resistant to fatigue, and I often get tired, so it was a tough decision.

If only I had owned a Kevlar Cargo Net outfit during my teaching days in Pittsburgh Public School District classrooms. I would have avoided both humiliation and injury.

I purchased a high-backed, leather desk chair on wheels to use in my classroom. It was great for gliding on the tile floor between my desk and computer area. It was not so great for leaning over to retrieve fallen objects. SPLAT! Lying prone in one's classroom lacks dignity. Kevlar Cargo Net could have prevented this spillage. Twice!

On my weight loss journey, I periodically fall off the wagon. Wouldn't it be great to be caught by a cargo safety net before consuming all of my daily and weekly points on Day 1 of my new week? Currently, cargo nets can be purchased on Amazon with two day delivery times. They are elegant in design, comfortable (a very important feature for WW members), easy to use, versatile and would make an ideal gift (especially with Mother's Day just around the corner). 

Therefore, my new WW strategy besides Food, Mindset, Activity and Sleep, is going to be: Wear my cargo net at all times! If I start slipping on any of the above Four Pillars of WW, my cargo net will catch me before it's too late. 

Until next time, I hope you order your own cargo net. If you don't want to wear it, at least bundle up all of your junk food in the net and hang it in a very high place. I considered taking all of my junk food to Mount Davis in Pennsylvania, but did not want to litter or annoy Smokey the Bear. If you have creative ideas on how to get rid of trashy food, please don't hesitate to share them with me. I'm usually entangled in my cargo net and need reading material. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Sixty

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Idiotic Behavior

By special request from my legions of fans (actually 3 friends), I’ve been told it’s been 54 weeks since my last confession (oops, I mean my last posting). Therefore, I will try to write more.

So as I came out of Eat ‘n Park with two of said friends, I found a warning card on my car’s windshield. It informed me that I had parked like an idiot because I was over the painted line. I was parked in a handicapped spot (legally) and two of my wheels were mere inches (slight exaggeration, it may have been a few feet) into the huge area allotted for vans. First of all, what kind of character bullies a handicapped (severe arthritis) person with a ruler? Secondly, it didn’t inconvenience anyone. And thirdly, in addition to parking like an idiot, I sometimes eat like one, too.

Which brings me to my quest to find the anonymous warning card dispenser. If you are the guilty one, I want to take you home with me (especially if you are male, single, a bit over retirement age and cute). You can police any idiotic eating behaviors (and there are many) that I exhibit. I will expect you to stop these behaviors before I “Cross the WW Eating Plan Line”! To paraphrase Johnny Cash, I want you to keep a close watch on this “food” of mine and because you’re mine, I’ll walk the line with 21 extra weekly food points. 

In conclusion, I want to thank Mr. Anonymous. My first reaction to his idiocy was anger. Then I was able to put into practice not taking everything so seriously. I was able to laugh at the situation and it gave me something to write about. I’m the type of person that thinks outside the box, colors outside the lines and occasionally parks outside them too. And if I should go over my daily WW points, there’s always tomorrow to get back in alignment. 

My Call To Action for all of us on this weight loss journey is: Try not to be an idiot!

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-nine

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The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-nine

Baby Steps

I recently completed my first Conqueror Challenge where I virtually (on my treadmill) walked the 64.4 mile Road To Hana, an actual road on Maui. My 76 year old body is starting to "get with the program!" It's no longer screaming in protest. Now it just kind of whimpers. 

I started in January and survived about 10 minutes on the treadmill. I am now walking at least 3 miles a day, and it takes me about 90 minutes to do this. While walking, I had an epiphany (I'm a slow learner). It doesn't matter how fast I go, it matters that I'm going. 

Who would have thought that I would actually look forward to walking? Certainly not moi (I'm being grammatically incorrect on purpose because I like to say "moi"). In fact, I'm now working on completing my second challenge which is "walking" the 21 miles of the English Channel from England to France. I'm choosing challenges based on distance and the design of the medal I'll receive in the mail at the end of each journey.

In order to accumulate even more activity every day, I've been amusing myself by incorporating Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks into my daily routine. For example, I might silly walk during commercial breaks when watching TV. Not only am I walking more, but I'm also laughing more (sometimes as hard as I did while under the influence of laughing gas at my dentist's office, only without the gas - much cheaper and less painful). Four-legged Zeus thinks I'm hilarious and does his own version of walking (jumping) along with me. As an added bonus, according to research, published in British Medical Journal, a "silly walk" would take about 2.5 times as much energy as a normal walk. 

I happen to love drinking ice cold water, but here's some advice for those of you who don't. Make yourself thirsty. I'm talking about 90 minutes of sweat inducing walking at two miles per hour. You will gladly drink those ounces which will help with weight loss.

In conclusion, I'll leave you with these thoughts: take baby steps on your weight loss journey and make every step (thought) count! We can all conqueror our challenges. And remember to have fun in the process. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-eight

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-eight

Negative v Positive

Mismatched By Dobby

In a landmark decision, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the Constitution of the United States guarantees the right to choose positive thoughts over negative assassins.  

I have found these negative hit-men thoughts can sabotage any progress made on my weight loss journey in a heartbeat. In fact, I can identify with Dobby, the house-elf, in Harry Potter And The Chamber of Secrets. Whenever he did something he assumed he shouldn't have, he yelled, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" He then attempted to bang his head on any surface he could find. 

I am determined to keep my thoughts on the positive side (as well as my bank account). There will be no more (or at least less) Bad Sandy! Bad Sandy! Besides, my head hurts from all that head banging. If I continue on the negative side of thoughts concerning my relationship with food, I'm afraid I will have to go under concussion protocol or at least wear a helmet when thinking.

Negativity can apply to all areas of one's life besides food. Here are a few examples of what I caught my brain trying and succeeding to slip through my negative Thought Shield today. In parenthesis, I practiced positive self-talk:

• I'll never be good enough to play my guitar and ukulele in front of anyone except my canine friend, Zeus. (Well, you will if you practice more!)
• I'm never going to reach my Weight Watcher goal. (Concentrate on the finish line, not the finish time!)
• If the product of two negatives equals a positive, does that mean that two negative thoughts are equal to one positive thought, and how do I keep track? (You never understood math, don't try now!)

Just as Dobby was freed from his household slavery (by owning an article of clothing, socks to be exact), we can be free of negativity by owning our thoughts. I challenge each of you to channel positive thoughts into positive energy. Until next time, if you accept the challenge, to show your support please email me socks or comments, whichever is easier!

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-seven

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-seven

Postcard From Maui

Just like Willie Nelson, "I'm on the road again, just can't wait to get on the road again..." Well, that's not quite true. I can't wait to get to the end of my 64 mile virtual walk to Hana. I just completed my 8th mile which means I'm 1/8th of the way to my destination.

The goal I set for myself was 1 mile per day, but inexplicably (read as due to laziness), I am 4 miles behind schedule. I told myself I got behind because I wanted to stop and smell the hibiscuses! Since most of these flowers have no aroma, it took me 4 days to realize this.

I haven't noticed any weight loss yet due to my increased activity, but my blood pressure was excellent yesterday at an appointment with Dr. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's office. I guess I should consider that a non scale victory.

While on the road to Hana, I'm practicing singing Pearly Shells in Hawaiian:

Pupu (a 'o 'Ewa) ika nuku (naka naka) ...

Not to brag (even though I am bragging), but I actually can sing this whole song in Hawaiian. When I get to Hana, you're all invited to a luau to help me celebrate. We'll have kailua pork, saimin, fresh pineapple and poi. Treat me to a Blue Hawaii (or 2 or 3) and I just may sing for you. Aloha nui loa. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-six

Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-six

The Road to Hana

Eureka! I've discovered the four keys to weight loss which I will share with you in no particular order.

Change your spark plugs (I believe they are located in the cerebral cortex and will move you forward on your journey). Pay money for something (now you are invested). Have fun (otherwise you will quit). Reward yourself (since WW no longer does it for you with Bravo stickers and free stuff for tracking. Come on WW, you promised to substitute another type of reward). 

I definitely needed something fun to get my cylinders firing. As I was constantly thinking about this, the Universe introduced me to Conquerors Challenges. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I actually look forward to mounting my treadmill every day! I am now virtually walking on The Road to Hana, one of the most dangerous roads in the world with over 600 hairpin curves and 50 one lane bridges. This road stretches for 64 miles on the Hawaiian Island of Maui. My sister extraordinaire can verify the dangers since she navigated this road in a jeep on her honeymoon and lived to tell about it.

So my goal is to walk at least one mile a day and reach Hana by March 18, 2023. At the end of my journey I'll receive a beautiful medal to commemorate my accomplishment. I can then choose from over fifty other challenges that vary in length from "walking" the English Channel (21 miles) to walking the Pacific Coast Trail (2,485 miles). I hope to collect and display many medals and leave 50 pounds of excess weight on global trails (is this considered trash? Sorry Hawaii, I'll get the creative menehunes to build a masterpiece with it). 

Besides having fun and losing weight, being a member of Conquerors Challenges has other advantages. They have their own Facebook group (similar to Connect on WW), and they are very supportive. You can see your progress on online maps showing 360 degree street views along your journey. You see who is on the road with you. You can choose to have trees planted or plastic cleaned up from the ocean for every 20% of the challenge completed. And they even offer opportunities to go from virtual to reality by planning vacations for you. I'm adding drive on the road to Hana to my bucket list. 

Well, time to get walking. Until next time, I hope you change your "sparkies" and have some fun. I would love to hear your ideas for fun activities or if you want to try mine, I would appreciate you using this code: RTHJ8DNRW9. For every two people who join, I get a free Challenge ($29.95 plus $4.95 for the medal). Aloha and Mahalo!

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-five

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-Five

Oculus Quest 2 and Me

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVqUMcMWY9E

I believe in Santa! I actually (virtually) rode in his sleigh, powered by Rudolph and eight (not so tiny reindeer). Flying very high (did I mention I have a height phobia?) over skyscrapers twinkling in the moonlight like steel Christmas trees, I attempted to grab beautifully wrapped presents that magically floated beside the sleigh, and toss them into chimneys for all the good little girls and boys.

There was one major problem. I kept missing the chimneys! Apparently I was not tossing hard enough due to fear of falling out of the sleigh. The reindeer team even tried to help me by slowing down every time they approached a chimney. Santa (or was it the crowd of family members existing in another reality?) tried to reassure me that I was safe. He/they encouraged me to have faith and enjoy the ride.

Which is exactly what I did. I stopped throwing presents and looked around in wonder. I observed the poetry of reindeer in motion. I studied the full moon in front of me. I relished the blissful feeling of peace. I enjoyed the beauty of the quiet night. I trusted Rudolph and friends to fly over and around approaching buildings. I even dared to look far below at all the sleeping homes tucked in for the night. 

Christmas has come and gone, but I'm still experiencing that sense of wonder when I remember my ride on The Santa Simulator. Lee Ann Womack expresses those same feelings in her song I Hope You Dance (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV-Z1YwaOiw).

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,

You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger...

Which brings me to my New Year's Resolution. In order to finally reach my goal weight in 2023, I'm "never taking one single breath for granted. I'm giving faith a fighting chance. And when I get the choice to sit it out or dance, I'll be on the dance floor, keeping my sense of wonder". 

Until next time, check the streets for presents that did not come down your chimney. Always keep your sense of wonder. Choose to make the New Year a happy one. And I just remembered in the St. Nick of time (this phrase was stolen from my amazing sister) to help me stay off the Naughty List so Santa will bring me my own Oculus next year. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-four

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-four

Fat Busters  

                                                                     

Extermination squads are patrolling Monongahela, PA. I need to call them!

Angelo's II,  a popular bar and restaurant, features this display every Halloween. I've been told Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is standing above the paranormal Monongahela Monster. MM is so scary I've developed a bad case of Samhainophobia (fear of Halloween). This monster, indigenous only to suburbs of Pittsburgh, apparently causes fatty deposits to grow in humans. This phenomenon could also be linked to excess treating! 

Before calling Fat Busters, I asked my East Coast son the following question: 

Me: If you were handing out treats on Halloween, what would you give?

Answer: Advice!

I thought that was an excellent, healthy idea. So my costumed neighbors are in for a real treat. I need to think of at least 40 different pieces of advice to hand out, or I suppose I could give the same piece to everyone. Here's what I have so far:

Don't eat yellow snow.

Call 811 before digging.

Just be yourself. (Ironic advice to a unicorn!)

This is harder than I thought, but it is distracting me from thoughts of sweet treats. On this positive note, I must leave you and check under my bed and in closets again for any signs of the Monongahela Monster. At least my Halloween phobia only happens once a year. 

Until next time, I'm giving you advice that I remember from one of my WW meetings: Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Happy Halloween to all. 

                                                                                                                           

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-three

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-three

Sweet Tooth   

                                                                

Compliments are so much tastier than candy corn! Actually, in my opinion, anything is tastier than candy corn, but that's beside the point I'm trying to make. Compliments are the spice in my life. Tell me you like my "Sweet Tooth" nails or you think I'm funny and I'll be smiling from the inside out. I'm not asking for compliments here, just sayin!

Speaking of spices and funny things, I always smile when I think of the time I asked my husband to hand me the oregano from my alphabetized spice rack. He told me we didn't have any. Unfortunately, he was looking under the A's! I just Googled oregano only to discover that it's an herb, not a spice. Wondering whether I need an herb rack now.

Recently, after a brief exchange, a complete stranger (Is there such a thing as an incomplete stranger?) called me Ms. Wise Guy. I chose to interpret that comment as a compliment on my humor rather than any mobster tendencies I might have. The fact is, I'm still smiling about his comment weeks later. Perhaps I'm also smiling because he was Mr. Cute Guy!

Compliments can also be confusing. I complained to my doctor that I did not appreciate being classified as obese (this was before I lost 25 pounds). He assured me I was not obese, just chunky! Wow, just what every woman wants to hear.

But most importantly, compliments are powerful motivators. I plan to savor each and every one. So no pressure dear readers, but I'm hoping there's a direct proportion between being thought humorous and being thinner. So, thank you in advance and thanks to https://www.colorstreet.com/jansglamnails and my Color Street stylist, Jan Dehning for introducing me to these fabulous nail polish strips. Just for the record, my favorite sister gave me my first set of nail strips, but I did not try them until Jan kidnapped one of my fingers and showed me how easy they are to apply.

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-two

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-two

California Coconuts

Flying non-stop from Pittsburgh to San Francisco via United Airlines was like flying from normal to crazy! 

I am a short person, but my knees were touching the seat in front of me. My sister had the aisle seat, I was in the middle and Mr.Tall Person was folded into the window seat. Before long, his leg was occupying my space under the seat in front of me, along with both of mine. How rude! I tolerated this for awhile, until demonic noises (a la Exorcist) were about to erupt from deep within my soul. Mr. TP wisely read the metaphorical subtext in my suggestion that he was invading my space, and I did not appreciate it. Final Manspreading score: 1-0 in favor of Roaring Woman!

In celebration of my victory, I bought a cute little bottle of Jack Daniels and was given a free Stroopwafel cookie. This Dutch cookie consists of two wafers with a bourbon caramel filling in between. Both Tennessee whiskey and bourbon are about 4 WW points; Stroopwafels are 7 points. I'm not revealing which one I consumed, but the word "Stroopwafel" became funnier the closer I got to California. 

Would you pay $6.00 for a cupcake? Or a dozen for $72.00? An upscale shopping center in San Ramon has a Sprinkles bakery that sells these decadent confections. For example, you could buy a pumpkin spice latte cupcake, which is a pumpkin cake filled with marshmallow cream, topped with Cuban coffee frosting. I needed a culinary degree to just read the brochure featuring all the varieties. Even more Californian coconutty is the fact that Sprinkles has on-demand Cupcake ATM-like vending machines where you can get your cupcake fix 24/7! Did I purchase one or a dozen? Only my scale knows this answer.

I was told that I had to try an In-N-Out Burger. Although I did not have the opportunity, I did drive by this fast food restaurant at 8:30 in the evening. There were at least 50 cars lined up to go through the drive thru lane. The chains's claim about the freshness of their beef must be true because there was an Angus beef cow walking along side of every car. Crazy! 

I saw for the first time, but did not eat them (a NSV), two animals in the wild. One was a jackrabbit (long ears, big hops) and two coyotes (scary).

I was constantly looking for wild boars (found on my brother's property) and trees to climb in order to avoid them. Note to self: lose more weight in order to climb trees quickly. 

At least flying non-stop from San Francisco back home to Pittsburgh was like flying from crazy to normal. I'll let you be the judge of my degree of normalcy!

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty-one

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Mice Are Not Nice: Part Deux

Sixteen years ago, I was traumatized by a mouse. It has taken me that long to overcome my fear of opening the pantry door in my kitchen. To read the horrific details, you are encouraged to click on this link:

https://www.sandraseeley.com/2006/03/mice-are-not-nice.htm

Fast forward to the present. A mutant mouse is on the loose in my house. He has avoided multiple traditional traps. There is now a five gallon bucket locked inside my writing assistant's (that would be Zeus, the wonder dog's) crate. You can see the cute ladder leading to the peanut butter treat, and hopefully, a fall through the trap door. Note to PETA: MM (short for Mutant Mouse, not Mickey) will be released into the wild or one unfriendly neighbor's yard, depending on my mood. 

MM left evidence (no need for CSI, I trust you know what I'm talking about) in a kitchen drawer. MM consumed a whole bag of Ricola lemon sore throat lozenges, just leaving shredded paper wrappings behind. So now I have a drug addicted MM searching for his next fix. At least he doesn't have a sore throat!

Enter Terminix from Stage Right, expensively. I am done being humane! 

How is this WW related? I received lots of activity points for jumping up and down on the two occasions of MM sightings. I'm avoiding the kitchen and food. And I consider this avoidance a NSV (non scale victory).  

Please send any suggestions for mouse removal. Until next time, I could use a virtual hug or a calming comment. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty: Use Your Noodle

 

Finally, an email arrived from The Universe! I have long questioned why I am overweight and underpaid. The Universe, tiring of my whining, left this message in my Inbox: You are underpaid because you don’t have a job. Get one! You are overweight because you haven’t been using your noodle. Use it! 

Therefore, I started using my turquoise blue, 52 inch long pool noodle. I do my best critical thinking while floating in a sensory deprivation pool, otherwise known as The Mon Valley Fitness Center. Some of my thoughts while noodle boarding (similar to paddle boarding, but the noodle is above you): I should write a book called Weight Loss for Dummies. I should not have watched the pool scene in Passengers with Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt. Trust me, you do not want the 800 gallons of water enveloping you to lose its gravitational pull! Chris Pratt enveloping you, with or without gravity, would not be a bad thing. I wonder if my noodle (brain) is made of Polyethylene Foam.

Since I often have both the 90 degree Fahrenheit therapy pool and frigid lap pool all to myself, I can immerse myself in WW 101. I can plan meals, meditate, workout, change habits and shift my mindset; all while using my noodle. Brainstorming with myself is challenging, but often rewarding.

For example, I recently attended a Halloween party at Mariner's Hall, a club where on Monday nights, I try to learn line dancing. I agonized over whether I should wear my Raggedy Ann costume because it made me look like Plus Size Ann! Actually, I can’t blame it on the costume. Anyway, I wore the costume and couldn’t have been more surprised. People loved it, took pictures of me and reminisced about a favorite Raggedy Ann from days long ago. They didn’t see me as I saw myself. They saw a smiling woman having fun, wearing a prize worthy costume. 

I learned a valuable lesson at that Halloween party. I learned to wear the costume, to buy the bathing suit (in any color but black), to have fun every day, to publish an article on my blog (reminder: I'm sensitive to criticism) and to use my noodle!

Until next time, to all my Weight Watcher readers and friends, just know that I will share my noodle with you! See you in the pool, email me or leave a comment. We can achieve our goals together!

 

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Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Forty-nine

Change

Change is in the winds and clouds. To quote Mary Poppins: Winds in the east, mist coming in. Like somethin’ is brewin’ and bout to begin. 

Can you feel the shift in the air pressure? Are you anticipating the possibilities of a new year? Will you embrace change?

The first change that is happening to me on January 1, 2021 (and probably a few other people) is that I will no longer be able to print from my Chromebook to the Cloud. I have been using this feature for years. So instead of sulking and waiting for my brother (and tech guru) who lives 3000 miles away from me, to come to my rescue remotely, and feeling empowered from just watching Wonder Woman 1984, I did my research on adding printers, grabbed my golden Lasso of Truth, donned my golden wings and took the risk of solving my own problem. Successful I was, but not without a few hurdles. The highest hurdle was locating the address of my printer. I rightly assumed it was not the same as mine, even though we live in the same house. The test print worked like a charm and I am now free to face more changes or in military lingo “embrace the suck!”

By the way, I watched WW84 on HBO Max. I just found out I had this app through Comcast. I called Comcast to ask tech support how to access this channel. I waited on hold longer than my wait at Walmart (see previous Chapter Forty-eight), so while waiting, I managed to solve my own problem, but had a relaxing conversation about movies when tech guy answered my call. So I already have two wins and the New Year hasn’t even started yet. “I Am Woman…”

These wins are putting the momentum on my side on this weight loss journey. I did not like the change to virtual WW workshops, so I stopped attending. Big mistake! Look for me at the next virtual meeting in Greensburg with coach extraordinaire, Kathy, on January 9th at 9 am. Mary Poppins told me, “Anything can happen if you let it.”

I received a much desired Erin Condren planner for 2021 as a Christmas gift. I already started planning. In the past, I would have felt like I was getting a head start on not keeping my Resolutions! This is not how the “changed” me feels. I’m setting measurable goals, writing with colorful pens and decorating with stickers. My BF, Mary Poppins, told me “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun.”

Another west coast brother (I have 3) told me about psychological flexibility as a way of changing one’s mindset in dealing with challenges. More on that later.

Until next time, “I shall stay until the wind changes” or the cloud, and be lighter and happier. That is also my wish for you.

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Forty-eight

            

Stuck In Traffic

Holiday traffic was at a standstill. There were no accidents or icy road conditions. I was not in a food line or Covid test line or a gas line from a previous life. I was in a foot traffic line inside my local Walmart. I was in the “speedy” check-out line with seven items already on the conveyor belt, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but store wide shut- down of all computers. I make a motion to have cash registers in place for emergency use. Besides being manually operative, I believe they are hack proof. Then I won’t have to worry about being a victim of data breach from Cozy Bear (Russians) or anyone else. 

I really wanted my seven items, and couldn’t purchase them anywhere else, so I began searching my mind for ways to amuse myself while waiting. I started with people watching. Humans started abandoning full to the brim grocery carts while melty items dripped into puddles. Soon the alcove in front of me started looking like the deserted cars along a highway in a scene from The Stand. 

Noise levels started rising as crying children and angry adults (some of them crying also) created a musical cacophony (I like to say “cacophony”). I tried composing a cacophony symphony in my mind. But, alas, I’m not musically inclined.

I began to wonder why management didn’t make some kind of announcement or at least start a sing-a-long to spread some Christmas cheer. 

Now hunger pangs were knocking on my door. WW Sandy was practicing mindfulness while her alter ego was considering all the candy bars within reach. 

By the half hour mark, I began singing (behind my mask, of course) 525,600 minutes (from Seasons of Love) in order to measure my time in Walmart. Every minute was beginning to feel like a year. 

In addition to hunger, I was experiencing other basic needs, but did not want to lose my first in line status. If I left, came back, and resumed my original position in line, would I be not guilty by reason of meltdown. Would other customers start hurling insults or objects at me?  

It is now one day away from New Year’s Eve and I am still in the Christmas check-out line. I refuse to leave until the computers return from their vacation. 

Until next time, here’s some Weight Watcher advice. Go to Walmart, load up your cart with healthy fruits and veggies, snack on them while you wait for a week in line. When you emerge, you will be 5 pounds lighter and happier. Wishing all of you a lighter 2021!

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Forty-seven

Easy As Pie                                                                                        

 Looks sad, tastes great

Whoever coined the phrase "easy as pie" obviously never baked one from scratch. It is not an effortless or pleasurable process. On the recipe, it should say, "Time required: 4 days."

Three of those days were devoted to figuring out how to assemble and operate Mom's Cuisinart to make the dough and slice the apples. Why didn't I have Mom teach me these things while she was still on this Earth? Instead, I had to send numerous text messages (including pictures) to sister extraordinaire, watch YouTube videos, plead with Siri for help and pray for divine intervention. I imagine God loves a good apple pie!

Peeling and coring the apples was painful. If I ever attempt this culinary wonder again, I'm delegating this job to Edward the Great or some passing stranger. Zeus, my research assistant, was only too happy to offer his soulful eyes in encouragement since apples are the only people food he is given. He goes crazy for apples. Note to self: Do not leave Zeus and sliced apples alone. Note to guests: I promise you Zeus did not lick these apples as he consumed a few (fingers are crossed behind my back!)

Baking the pie was the easy part, until I realized I had forgotten to add pats of butter on top of the apples before adding the top crust. What does the butter do anyway? 

As you can see from the picture, it is not exactly a masterpiece. Note to self: make extra dough to allow for picture perfect crimped edges and more decorative cutouts. 

Note to WW Community: 1/8th of a homemade apple pie is worth 16 points. Was this pie worth it to me? H_ _ _, yes! And if I do say so myself, it was delicious. 

This pie was supposed to be a trial run for a Thanksgiving pie. Do I want to go through all of this trouble again? The jury is still out on that question. 

Until next time, I'm going to be thinking "piece of cake" which is way easier. So dear reader, choose your pie or cake and be happier. 

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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The Lighter Side of Weight Loss: Chapter Forty-six

The Lighter Side of Weight Loss             

By Sandra Warholic Seeley

Chapter Forty-six: Let's Talk Turkey

Wild Turkey

Turkeys intimidate me. First of all, if you have ever encountered a turkey in the wild (meaning on the University of Pittsburgh campus) you found out that they are often in attack mode. My daughter used to fear for her life when going to her mailbox and back due to a turkey infestation in her yard. When I would visit her, I had to gauge the distance between her front door and the current location of the turkey patrol, before making a dash for her door (before DoorDash was a thing!)

My research assistant, Zeus, tells me that turkeys may attempt to dominate or attack people they view as subordinates. In other words, they have a pecking order (pun intended). Who would have thought these belligerent birds could be such racists? So here’s my advice to you: Beware of Tom when he puffs up his body and shakes his tail feathers at you. You definitely do not want to be subordinate at this time! (This is his mating dance). Do not let him corner you. Do the turkey trot as fast as you can in the opposite direction. Just hope you can do this faster than 25mph. 

I am even more intimidated by dead turkeys! My sister has traditionally hosted Thanksgiving dinner at her house. Due to social distancing and remodeling of her kitchen (Some people will do anything to opt out of hosting duties), I may have to cook the turkey, make all the sides and bake the pies for just Edward the Great and me. I have never made a complete turkey meal myself. How is this WW related you may ask? I will tell you. I have options. I can attempt to make all of the above, but eat small portions. I can call the DoorDash people. I can go to my daughter’s house, and let her deal with the Butterball hotline (1-800-288-8372 or 1-800-BUTTERBALL). 

As a last resort, I can stay home and have a Wild Turkey Bourbon liquid meal. My research tells me that it is a combination of high proof, a great price and flavor qualities possibly approaching a perfect storm. Not much fiber in this meal, but it’s Thanksgiving and I’m thankful I do not have to cook. 

Until next week or next year (whenever I get around to writing again), Bottoms Up! Repeat this several times and be slap happy! Also, beware of turkeys.

Sandra Warholic Seeley - All my life, and half of someone else's, I have lived in a humorous place called Earth. My muse is a tiny menehune from the island of Oahu in Hawaii where I lived for a year. Ernest Hemingway once sat under the exact same coconut tree where I did most of my writing. I'm also a sensitive to criticism Virgo who loves to get paid for writing and speaking funny stuff. Even though my mind is filled with volcanic ash residue and I'm still finding sand in my shorts, I will continue to write until my muse retires or I run out of pretty blue drinks, whichever comes first. Don't be bashful, email the author.

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