Awesome cocktails & Hailey Tuck

I went with my friend, Amy, and my new fellow, Charles, to see a lounge singer named Hailey Tuck at the East Side Showroom.  It was a bar that reminded me of a speakeasy from the 20s.  There were curtains on all the windows.  The bartenders were dressed in aprons with bands on their arms and they stirred their drinks like professionals.  They served their water and their beer in mason jars.  Their furniture was a mishmash of various styles like it had just been thrown together.  All in all the style worked.

I had a Moscow Mule and it was delicious.  It was all I've ever dreamed of in a cocktail.  The common recipe is:

2 parts vodka
3 parts Ginger Beer
1 part Lime juice
Mix and pour over ice.

It has this really strong flavor that isn't sweet at all.  It was like nothing I expected.  I was very pleased with the result.  Add to it, it was visually pleasing.

The thing I love about this pictures is how nicely Hailey is framed by the hipsters.  Those guys went out of their way to look like they were cooler than everyone.  I clarified with Amy that it is apparently the style for young people to now wear their hair in a style that makes them look as if they cut it themselves with gardening shears.  If you have to go to this much effort to look cool then you should never leave the house.

Hailey sang old-time favorite jazz songs.  She was little and sassy and pretty and she sang really well.  My favorite part of her act is that her dad was also her drummer.  She decided since he was coming to all her shows anyway that she would put him to work.  She knows the music.  She knows the history behind the music.  She was able to recite a fact or two at least.  She feels it in her bones and sings from her happy little heart.  I would go back to that club to see her any time.

My only complaint was that it was a bit pricey.  I do not make a lot of money.  If you want me to see a show in your bar please charge less than $12 per drink.  Also the hostess tried to seat us at the bar first.  I wasn't having that.  Then they wanted to seat me at a table that would have to be climbed over or under to be seated at comfortably.  I was with a date and I wanted to say, "Thanks, ya hussy, for making me look like a cow on my date."  Instead I identified a much more accessible table and said, "We'll sit here."  She wanted to protest. I shot her a look that suggested there would be a disturbance in the force that would result in her tears.  That is a surprisingly effective method of communication.


Here is a link to the bar.   http://eastsideshowroom.com/  They will make you a good old-fashioned cocktail which may be pricey or they have wine and beer too.  It looked like the beer specials ran about $5 a pint.  Unfortunately, I don't drink beer.  It's worth the price of admission.  On their calendar they have Hailey Tuck listed a few times.  I'm fairly certain you won't be sad you went.

My fella also wrote about it on his blog. Here's the link: MusicMissionary. 

Only on a date

I met someone new.  He's been vetted by my best friend, who after threatening his existence should he displease me, gave me the thumbs up.

I have issues with crowds.  More importantly I have issues with assholes.  Put the two together and you'll find someone who hasn't been to a lot of shows.  I typically hate crowds more than I love music which is a lot.  Words like phobia and anxiety have been used.

Most of our discussion when not together has been had over IM and text.  I get a text, "Hey, call me."  I knew it was important.  We have spoken on the phone only when we couldn't type fast enough to articulate what we had to say or there was driving involved.  "Remember that Japanese punk band I told you about?..." After warnings about staying out late and parking and walking and meeting his friend and assuring him that I'd be fine in a crowd, I agreed to go.  It had nothing to do with the promise to hold my hand.  (Ok, maybe a little.)  All I could think is, "I'm a blonde now, I'm 86 pounds lighter, I like having my hand held and this is the coolest thing I'll ever do."

Walking to the show from the car I couldn't help but regret my jeans and tee-shirt and then I saw this guy in front of us with a poorly placed ball cap and hair the color of synthetic banana food additive.  "That's the lead singer of the band.  Don't make fun of people in Austin because they might be a member of the band."  I just gave him the, that color does not occur in nature look.  What do I know and who am I to judge?  I was the one paying to see him perform.


Drinks were had and friends were made and it started to rain and finally the show started.  It was 12:30am and I may be a night person but I'm usually in bed before 1:00am.  I don't know at what point he started holding my hand, but it was being held at this point and I was pleased and even a bit distracted but pleasantly so.  The rain brought the crowd in closer and there were a few people who were assholes but I didn't even think about throat-punching any of them.  


The coolest part about this entire show was the pink girl.  She was a keyboardist and she was really into it.  She was screaming "MAD TIGER!" Off key into the microphone and maybe not in time with the others but that was fine too.  These guys are silly and they dress like power rangers.  They are there to have fun with a crowd that's there to let them lead us through their crazy imaginings.  At one point the bass guitarist puts on an alien costume that is entirely too unwieldy but he makes it work while he rocks it.  In the following picture he's standing on the crowd's hands.  He then tied himself to the rafter and hung by one foot  while he played the bass guitar.

You don't see that at your everyday punk rock show.  There is no way I would have encountered this on my own.  My one resource for this information wouldn't have told me because she would safely have assumed I didn't want to see a bunch of Japanese guys in Power Rangers uniforms hanging from the rafters while singing poorly articulated English songs about Ninja high schools and the punk rock rendition of Old McDonald Had a Farm.  That is a safe assumption for her to make.  My date on the other hand had no such assumptions to bind him from thinking I might enjoy the show if I could work past the crowd.

As a result of seeing the show I had a great evening and some seriously good fun.  I've earned Indie Credit in the eyes of new and old friends alike.  I feel like I'm living closer to the edge for a change.  I'm still safely bound to the responsibilities I carry but I've also seen that the tether goes farther than I thought it did.

I haven't decided yet if, at work, I will explain in detail about my weekend.  A few of them know that I'm seeing someone.  Most of them don't listen to punk rock and I'm absolutely certain the only context they have for the Power Rangers would be through their grand children.  This is why they sit me in the back.

When do teeth become optional?

Last week was a week from hell.  My ex-husband announced he was moving into assisted living from a motel in the hooker and junkie neighborhood.  He accepts he cannot do it by himself anymore.  He says he's taking his medication but he doesn't see himself the same way the rest of the world does.  There are three types of people who live in a motel in the hooker and junkie neighborhoods.  There are hookers and junkies, obviously.  There are also crazy people who are unable to see exactly how devastating their lives have become.  He said, "My problem is I spend my money as soon as I get it."

I said, "Your problem is you send your money to thieves who claim to be women who will love you.  Really they are trained professionals who have marked you as golden."  I was sitting on the edge of one of the double beds trying not to touch anything.  I looked at the cabinet and there were condoms visible and I realized at least he'd upgraded to real women.  I was never trashy enough for his tastes.  I'm not saying this as a judgement against him or for me.  He likes trashy women.  I'm not a debutante but my uniform does not include fluorescent pink zebra-striped spandex either.

He called my mother and said he could not take his, formerly our, pets with him. He had three days to find them homes.  Let me clarify.  I had three days to find them homes.  I asked for this so I'm not going to complain too much, but I will be loud about it.

Monday: The guy who sits next to me at work, Tony, loves Boston's, just lost one of his three dogs and was happy to take another if I couldn't find a home.  My ex's daughter and her best friend agreed to each take a cat.  I told them they needed to sort out who got which cat and I would be happy to deliver said cats to them.

Tuesday: I gave Tony a ride home and we swung through hooker and junkie neighborhood to pick up the dog, Patches.  I drive them both 10 miles past where I live and kiss Patches goodbye.  Fond farewells and all.  He is the good dog.  My dogs, who have been mentioned earlier, are the bad dogs.  I may even have this picture in an earlier blog.  Who knows?

Wednesday: I am scheduled to pick up the cats, Tigger and Buddha.  I get there and we put them both in a case meant to contain dogs while they're in the car.  It isn't meant so much as a carrier, but I have to carry them.  They weren't happy so I had two yelling cats in a box that wasn't meant to be carried unless it was empty.  Nice.  We got in the car and they continued to yell.  Then I smelled it.  I thought for sure I was wrong.

I got to Amy's and she felt the bottom of the case and it was wet.  One of them peed in the carrier.  There were two cats in there and one was about to come out and Oh DEAR!  "We'll put him in the bathroom... You'll have to figure out what to do from there."

Poor Tigger was stuck in there.  She squallered the entire way back to my apartment where I tossed her urine soaked butt into the shower.  For real.  I'm not going to have a urine soaked cat anywhere near my bed.  I figured her day was already bad, it was just a matter of degrees at this point.  

I left her to sort it out after the shower and I went to pick up my mother.  She was happily drunk and just tickled to see me and talk talk talk talk talk talk talk... crunch.  Backing out of the driveway I managed to back over a large rock that dislodged my bumper.  Moving forward I scraped the front of the car on a tree.  It was like had no choice.  My mom actually said, "Be careful, you don't want to disrupt her property."  Really?... 

Side note: I'm getting that fixed tomorrow because I noticed the bumper is gradually becoming more and more dislodged. It will eventually fly off and kill a puppy or something and well I can't live with that.  I told a guy I know, "But I bought an avocado so everything will be fine because that's the closest thing to sex I've had all day."  

Thursday was fun too.  My ex asked me to pick up and hold his bags for him.  He needed to find another place to stay and he didn't want to carry his bags with him on the bus.  I failed to remind him if he hadn't gotten his car repossessed he wouldn't have that problem.  I figured his problems were worse than that so I agreed.  I thought I would be nice one last time.

After work, I took Tony to his car.  I followed him to his house and I met his daughter, wife and other dogs. Patches was so happy to see me. If he could speak he'd say something like, "I knew you'd be back!"  On my way to drop him off at his daughter's my ex called me and asked me to bring him his bags.  Like I had nothing else to do, I was expected to bring him his bags.  When I said, "Tonight?!" he said, "I packed my teeth.  I can't eat without them."

What do you say to that?  I dropped Patches off with his daughter and we were shocked together about profound thoughts involving him packing his TEETH.  

Finally I got to the new place where he was staying and he seemed fine with it.  It looked like a hellhole to me but what do I care.  I dropped off his bags and wished him well. I haven't heard from him and don't expect to.  It takes a lot for me to reach the end of the rope.  I had to actually say to him when he asked to stay with me, "I'm not doing this for you.  I'm doing this for them."

Tigger is resting comfortably at my house with my other cat who is miffed, to say the least.  I think she is sick, with something.  She is happy and active but she is losing weight and drinking a lot.  I fear another "Farewell Comrade" entry.  

Another side note: When I published the entry about Toki dying in September, I sent it to the former executive director of the agency I work for.  We share a friend.  He told the friend we share, "I think Melissa's lost her freakin' mind!"  Yes my friend, I have and frankly, you've never known me while I had it.  

It's a good thing my boss doesn't read this... 

Numbers don't add up

So, I've lost 19.6% of my body mass from when I started the program.  Let me begin with WOW! Who'd have thought 6 months ago I'd be here?  Okay 6 months ago I committed to the decision.  Who'd have thought a year ago I would be here?  I was "fine" with my weight.  I was "okay."  What did those doctor's know anyway?

For my birthday a 10 layer, yes 10 layer cake was made for me and I think I ate it all.  Okay maybe not all of it because there were other people there, but I did eat a good portion of it.  It was delicious.  DELICIOUS!  Now if it's too sweet, it tastes toxic.

I have been released to fruits and vegetables and I swear these cherries I bought were in syrup or something.  They were sooo sweet I couldn't finish the smoothie I made with them.  I think I may have also used too many, but still, a girl's got to dive in head first when she can.  And cherries don't do so well in smoothies, just sayin'.  Don't get me wrong, the first and maybe even the third gulp were delicious, but it started to make me sick in the end I couldn't finish it.

For those of you about to suggest I add carrots, butter or MSG to my shakes, no.  I will not have a carrot shake.  I haven't been released to butter or MSG and I am learning to respect boundaries.

So, I've lost 19.6% of my body mass, but I've only lost 10% of my BMI.  Of course I just looked it up on BMIcalc.org and I found this:

"...BMI poorly detects such conditions as various proportions of fat, muscular mass, bones, cartilage, and water volumes. BMI takes into account the height contribution to weight."

So there's the proof.  These guys are monitoring my heart.  I think it's because if you lose weight incorrectly you can lose heart tissue since you lose muscle mass.  I get my next EKG next week but I feel fine.  I'm fairly certain my heart is in good condition since I'm able to exercise harder than I was when I started the program.  If I'd only lost 10% of my fat that would imply that I may have lost 10% muscle and therefore, potentially 10% of my heart.  I don't think I would be or feel as healthy as I do if I'd lost 10% of my heart.

I remember the finality on February 1st.  I stared at the computer screen that night eating an apple with peanut butter convinced my life was over.  I'm moody as hell at times and I mean moods I've never experienced but right now I feel hopeful.  I feel like I've made the right decision.  I want to stay on this path.  It's no longer the struggle.  

I see other people in the class who are struggling and I try to encourage them as best I can.  There is nothing easy about this class.  There is nothing easy about this lifestyle decision.  I don't think it will ever be easy, but it feels right.

I want to get the before picture from my file and post it with a picture that was taken of me yesterday after I got my hair done.  I look really different.  Everyone says my face looks thinner.  I see a completely different person.  Perhaps in many ways I am a different person.

One Moment More

This is a song by one of my favorite musicians, Mindy Smith.  She is simply lovely.  She was mis-classified as as Christian singer because she wrote a song about returning to Jesus.  It's an awesome and haunting song about obsessive compulsion and fear and how Jesus brought her through a very rough time in her life.  I heard an interview where she said they didn't care so much for her when they found out she didn't really go to church.  She has sung many of my favorite songs.

I know a beautiful man who filled my life for 16 months with all the emotions of a relationship and now he's gone.  We are likely both to blame.  I am sad.  I know he is too.  There are just times when beauty comes to an end and that time came and I am sorry my dear.  It's just stupid love.

There are parts of this song that apply to you and to me.  Farewell my friend and my love. It was really real and I was happy, now I'm sad.  We are both better because of the other.  There are parts of this song that suggest there is hope but really it's more about the end and the love and the wish.  I wish you love and happiness and I will always remember you fondly.

Hold Me

Even though I know you're leaving

And show me

All the reasons you would stay

It's just enough to feel your breath on mine

To warm my soul and ease my mind

You've got to hold me and show me now

Give me

Just one part of you to cling to

And keep me

Everywhere you are

It's just enough to steal my heart and run

Then fade out with the falling sun

Oh, Please don't go

Let me have you just one moment more

Oh, all I need, All I want is just one moment more

You've got to hold me and keep me now

Tell me

How some day you'll be returning

And maybe 

Maybe I'll believe

It's just enough to see a shooting star

To know you're never really far

It's just enough to see a shooting star

to know you're never really gone

Oh, please don't go

Let me have you just one moment more

Oh, all I need, 

All I want is just one moment more

Oh, please don't go, 

Let me have you just one moment more

Oh, all I need, 

All I want is just one moment more

You've got to hold me and maybe I'll believe.

So hold me, even though I know you're leaving.

Reality Shift

My friend, who is also over weight suggested I really start to log my journey.  I suggested I was getting crazier with every pound I lost.  She probably wanted to slap me via text.  I get all emotional and then I feel like an idiot and then I question myself.  Well there's no reason to question myself.  She used the exact words I needed to hear, "You are undergoing a reality shift."

In a word, DUH!

My place in the world is changing.  The way I fit in the world is changing.  As I feel my body it literally feels like I am coming unglued in places.  I look at myself sometimes and remind myself, no one said this would be pretty.  But, it's okay.  I'm not doing this to become pretty.  Hopefully that will happen.  Health comes first and beauty, though important, is secondary.

Regardless of what the industry says, I think beauty is more of an internal function.  There are plenty of beautiful women out there who think they're ugly.  There are plenty of women who think they are so imperfect they surgically modify, starve and punish themselves daily.

There are women out there who view themselves as beautiful and on the outside they may be stunning, but they're ugly on the inside.  They're vicious, mean and sell out their children to improve themselves.  Eventually, gravity takes over and while they're busy building their lives on deceit, I support myself.  Gravity will hit me too but my friends trust and love me because I will carry them on my back, barefoot, across broken glass to the moon.

When my therapist asked me what I planned to look like when I'm "done" I hadn't even thought that part through.  I mean I have no idea what I will look like.  I may require some surgical modification in the end, but it will be reconstructive.  The work will be intense for me to create a reasonable facsimile of a normal person.

I've decided my goal is one of the images of Venus from the Renaissance or perhaps Venus De Milo.  All of the images are of a healthy, well proportioned woman.  She has ample hips and breasts smaller than mine, but we have bras, thank goodness.  She is realistic.

So, here is my goal:

Big day... again

I do my weigh-in today.  I estimate a 4 pound loss.  If I lose 4 pounds my nutritionist won't get all militant on me.  I'm rapidly becoming one of those people who holds out their old clothes and things "DAMN!"  It's a good feeling.

Monday I climbed two flights of stairs without getting winded or having a sore knee.  Okay the knee I banged up a few months ago is still in pretty bad shape, but my left knee, the uninjured one, is the one that hurts when I have to climb.

There are days I really want a deep fried double cheeseburger, but honestly, for the most part, those days are gone.  I'm surprised by how committed I've become.  I sneak in fruit from time to time, but that's because the entrees taste like cat food.

No.  I do not know what cat food tastes like, but it smells like cat food.  I told my nutritionist that they tasted like sadness and she seemed a bit offended.  I didn't push it by making the cat food reference.

Because the classes have started over, I want to tease her.  I know it's wrong because she's good at what she does but what's wrong with suggesting the class add butter or MSG to their shakes?  I am fairly certain Maribel would climb over the table and strangle me at that point.  "I bet you think your funny bitch!!!"  Who me?...


I was cleaning out my picture file and found a few more LOL gems.

The name of this one is "Bromance"

That guy has to be like 60.

Look at it for a while.  It will make your WTF senses scream.

Who hasn't had this day?

I don't even like Star Wars.  I am a Star Trek fan, unless we're talking about Twilight.  Then I'm a Star Wars fan.  Followers of George Takai will understand.