a leetle lion movie and a leetle giveaway

Draw up a cozy chair, pop yourself some popcorn, and do a little armchair traveling with me, back to Mashatu. Join us on our game drive after we've caught up with the lions on one of our last game drives there. I'll set the scene: I'm sitting in the front passenger seat (which is on the left side since all the vehicles are right hand drive). At the beginning of the video that's the hood of the vehicle where the rifle was mounted. I'm not zoomed in on the camera. I am that close. And she is that big. Actually, probably bigger than she looks in this video. And yeah, there was no door on either the driver's or passenger's side in the front. You can kind of see that she's got cubs, but I think that she was weaning those babies--we saw one of them trying to nurse on our last game drive and she just kept getting up and moving away.

I have a special prize if you can guess what mamma lion is doing at the end of this video. Post a comment with your guess. Seriously, I have little something I bought in Africa that I can give away, but I only have one, so if I get a single right answer, that person gets it. If I get more than one right answer, I'll have a random number generator pick one. You have until 10:00 PM Mountain Time tomorrow to post your guess. Really, you'll all guess it, I'm sure.

P.S. Mr. Bump, you are ineligible on account of having been there at the time. Also, if no one guesses I'll be posting my own anonymous right answer and enjoying my own prize. Also dying of humiliation, but that's for another time. So guess! Post a comment! I'm sure you're right.

this totally counts as a blog post

Even though it's mostly just a link or two or three. I'll be pulling images from flickr as I talk more about our trip in the coming posts, but here they are (both mine and Mr. Bump's) in their non-narrated glory.

This particular photo was taken at Boulder's Beach on the Cape of Good Hope peninsula. You can't really see them, but there were penguins all around, hiding from the sun under the shade of scrubby sand shrubs and, appropriately enough, large boulders.

Here's some proof that they'd been around:

This was a special day--I'll tell you more later.

Oh, calm down and go look at Flickr. That should keep you busy for a nanosecond or two.

part 2 - in flight

I'm going to start at the beginning here, and I don't know how long this is going to take to tell, so if you start to nod off just keep checking back until I get to the part that interests you.


We left on a Wednesday morning, the 23rd. Our first leg took us to Minneapolis, but let me back up a bit. The "we" on this trip mostly consists of myself, Mr. Bump, and our friends J&J. They were the instigators of this trip, and we were so grateful for their inviting us on it, and shepherding us through the complicated task of booking everything. It was, to say the least, an ordeal.

There was a good deal of nervousness about a close connection in between our flight to Minneapolis and the flight from there on to Amsterdam. The day before the trip we managed to switch (without fees) to an earlier flight (thanks to our friend J. who was extraordinary in managing all the flights. Really. She rocked it for over a year on all these details). Anyway our intended flight had been late 4 times in the last couple of weeks, which would have meant we would have missed our connection, with no great way to get on from there. So we managed to get on an earlier flight, which meant we had to be at the airport at 7:00-7:30. J&J picked us up at 6:30 so we could park their car and catch the shuttle and get to the airport, etc.


My contribution to the flight was some snacks--I made these and these, which ended up getting us all the way to Johannesburg. The food served on the flights drove me a diet of granola bars and chocolate through much of the next couple of days. I highly recommend bringing enough food to get you through on a couple of long international flights. We had a couple of edible bits of different meals, but not enough that combined would make a single meal.

So we get to Minneapolis, we have lunch at California Pizza Kitchen (this would be the last full meal I would have until we got to Mashatu on Friday around 1:30, basically I lived off all the non-hot portions of the meals and some granola bars for two days). The plane we would have taken later is late, and if we'd been on time taking off to Amsterdam, we would have missed our flight. But we were late taking off--there was a gate change and some other behind the scenes shuffling we weren't privy to. As we board the plane we part ways from J&J, who will travel the remainder of the trip in the luxurious lap of business class.



Aside from being too wired to sleep and relatively miserable with the normal plane discomfort, flight from Minneapolis to Amsterdam is uneventful. I watched 3 movies, listened to music, and shift shift shifted in my seat. Mr. Bump slept most of the way on both long flights. He's found some way to almost immediately fall asleep on airplanes that is really annoying because I can't ever sleep much on airplanes. This particular leg of the journey lasts 8 hours and 20 minutes, give or take.

The next flight is pretty much a reeeaaally loooong work day in length (10 hours, 55 minutes) and in theory it would have been a good idea to stay awake through it, but since I've gotten no sleep so far, sleep of any kind seemed like a good idea. I took a Benadryl and managed to get a bit of sleep on this flight. Did I mention it was really long? Mr. Bump and I have different winners for worst plane trip, and I think this one was his pick. He was in the middle seat (the plane was three, three, three across) and I got the window, and I suppose that's part of it. (In case you're wondering, I chose the leg from Johannesburg to Paris, which is another post.) But either way, the seats were tight and uncomfortable, the food was awful (except for the little cup of ice cream--that was good), and it just kept going and going. There was too much cloud cover to see the Sahara, sadly, but our flight took us essentially the route you would take if you drew a straight line down from Amsterdam to Johannesburg. It was pretty much all cloudy, so we didn't see much of anything from the window.

Finally land in Jo-burg, get through customs (new stamp for the passport! yay!) and get accosted by friendly taxi drivers who want to help us get to our hotel. They warn us that the shuttle we're supposed to take doesn't come that often this late (it's about 9:30-10:00pm), but that they can take us to our hotel ("safely!") for 400 Rand. We say no. They say "ok, 300 Rand." We say no and walk on. Some gentleman in blue coveralls walk us over toward the place where we meet the shuttle, and halfway there we realize they aren't just being nice, they expect a tip when they get us to the shuttle pick-up point. Somehow we scrounge up some dollars but then they explain that because they have to exchange them we should give them more because it costs so much to exchange and so they won't get very much for it. We smile and say no, and our hotel shuttle comes and we go. There is a scuffle amongst the blue coveralled and the driver for who is going to lift our bags into the little trailer behind the van, which the driver eventually wins, I think. I don't know if it was because the international flights arrive around then, but there seemed to be a swarm of people not really begging but looking for some way in which they can earn your tip. When we flew domestically the next day, it wasn't nearly the same. We tipped as generously as we could with the rand we had. We got a guideline from the company through which we booked our travel within South Africa, and they said somewhere between 1-5 rand for porters and drivers. I think we tipped mostly 5 or 10 rand in these situations. Honestly I was so tired I'm not entirely sure, but I'm sure Mr. Bump will correct me in the comments if I'm wrong.

Our hotel is attached to a casino called Emperor's Palace, but we saw very little of any of it that night. We arrived late and our rooms aren't quite ideal. J&J's room had 2 single beds instead of a king, and ours had a smell in the bathroom (as well as some hairs that weren't ours). But really it didn't matter. We had to get up at 5:30 in order to make a 7:30 flight, so it was of utmost importance to get horizontal as soon as we could. And the bed was really soft and clean and not an airplane seat. And it was horizontal. Did I mention it had been two days since I'd had my head and feet at the same angle to the floor?


So I shower (I think I heard the angels singing), and go to bed. At what feels like approximately one minute later our phone rings for our wake up call. They were kind enough to give us a bag with breakfast to go for each of us, so we had some water, some juice, and a couple of granola bars. There is an apple that wasn't very good and some kind of mayonnaise based sandwich in there as well, but if you know me even a little bit you know that's possibly the last thing I would put in my mouth. So juice box and granola bar it is. Which were both good and fine. On to the airport again (we will become fairly well versed in the Jo-burg airport before this trip is done).



Our flight is through South African Airlink, which interestingly enough, is different from South African Airlines, and after a few false starts we manage to find the correct desk. We have to check our bags for this leg since there really isn't space for it in the cabin, and there is some confusion about our boarding passes, but eventually everything is taken care of on that end. We go through security, who don't seem bothered about water, or 3-1-1 toiletries, or taking your shoes, jacket, watch, etc. off. As as side note, this is what is so interesting about international travel. Every place seems to have some different theory about what's "dangerous." On our way out of Paris they made Mr. Bump take his lenses and camera out of their bag and run them all through separately. In Amsterdam we got off a flight, stayed in the same terminal, but had to go through security again before boarding (and dump our water). This also happened in Atlanta after we went through passport control--we had to go back through security, and if you had bought wine or something in duty free it had to go in your checked luggage. It's so odd and the more I travel the more arbitrary these rules seem to be.



Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. When it is time to board our plane we get on a bus, which takes us out to the tarmac where our plane sits. We attempt to take a picture of the plane but are told we can't do that. (We get one as we get off in Polokwane, since they don't seem to have the same kind of security concerns.) So the plane seats 27, two on one side and one on the other. The flight is bumpy but we have a lovely flight attendant who actually has a teeny little cart and does a beverage AND breakfast service. All the while managing to smile and not spill much of drinks she's pouring as we bounce around. In case you were wondering, the choice for breakfast was a chickenfish sandwich. I can only assume that it was tuna, but as none of was up for it at 7:30 in the morning I only have what my nose told me to go by. I think I'll call it chickenfish from now on.

Our 27 seater takes us to Polokwane International Airport, which has a newly built domestic terminal. However, we have to go through the international terminal, which consists of a small one room building which you walk through while your pilot fills out the paperwork for your flight.
Our pilot is a sweet, apple cheeked young gentleman named Benedict. Our plane is a little single prop Cessna with 6 seats. We will be flying this to Limpopo field, just across the border in Botswana. By the time we pile into the plane it has begun to rain lightly.







But all goes well, and we find ourselves at Limpopo International Airport, really just a dirt strip with a hut on one side. We have to wait for someone to come from the border crossing in order to stamps our passports. As we wait a Land Rover pulls up. This will be our vehicle for the next several days, and driving it is Justice, who will be our tracker. He drives us for about 45 minutes from somewhere that feels like the middle of nowhere to what can only be just over the horizon from the middle of nowhere. But even on this drive (which he is careful to point out is not a game drive, so we won't be stopping for every animal we see and we won't be going off road to follow anything) we see giraffes. We see all kinds of birds. I think we saw some zebras, too. After a long, drizzly (yes, it's still raining) ride, we make it to tent camp. And that's where I'll leave you for the moment. Actually, check out the video from my last blog post, and that'll get you settled in at Mashatu.

back to botswana

Here's a little video of our accommodations in Botswana. The more I reflect on our trip, the more fondly I remember our time at Mashatu. Whether it was the people, who were really lovely, or the fact that it was our first experience on safari, or just the game we saw, it was such a special experience.

the case of the curious ellie

This was on the last game drive at Mashatu in Botswana. You be the judge--was she just curious as to what we were, or was she feeling a bit threatened? There was some debate in the vehicle at the time, but I'll tell you that my heart was pounding. The tapping sound you hear toward the end is our guide tapping his fingers on the hood of the vehicle.

part 1 - i packed my bags pre-flight

I don't know how long this is going to take to get through, but you can ignore until I get to the part that interests you. My source material for these entries are my own wonky memory and Mr. Bump's meticulous journalling of the trip. Some of his entries lack my own flair for language, but they're spot on for recollecting the events. And I contributed to a lot of the content when he would ask "So after that we...?"

Before I get to the trip itself, a note about luggage. I wanted to include this because I found other people's lists of what to take/what they took to be very helpful. We had specific requirements for luggage, and what I have learned with every successive trip I have taken is that what is enough is less than you think.

We had to take soft sided luggage, and our total weight restriction on some of the smaller planes was 20 kg, or around 44 pounds. I took a soft-sided rolling duffel bag made by CalPak (can't find it any more), which met the criteria for carry-on (less than 45 linear inches), was filled with the following:

• 1 pair Merrell hiking shoes
• 1 pair flats from Patagonia
• 1 pair flip flops
  
• 1 bag assorted chargers and adapters for electronic devices (Mr. Bump had an outlet extender which was a godsend--allowed us to charge everything off one outlet, which was often all we had)
  
• 1 toiletry bag of non-liquids
• 3 books for Paris (french phrase book, Paris Top 10, and Clotide's Edible Adventures in Paris)
• 2 pairs pants
• 2 skirts
• 1 dress
• 3 tank tops
• 3 short sleeve t-shirts from Gap Body. These were great--thin enough to dry quickly, stretchy enough they didn't wrinkle.
  
• one long sleeve t-shirt also Gap Body (I actually took two, wore one on the plane and packed one)
  
• 2 long sleeved button up shirts
• underthings for 4 days
• pajamas
• 3 pairs socks
• first aid kit including antibiotics, pain relievers, bandaids, polysporin, motion sickness meds, bug repellent, benadryl, immodium, pepto. We used some of almost all of these except (thankfully) the antibiotics and the polysporin.
  
• 1 hat
• swimsuit (used this only once, should have left it home, probably)
• 1 bandana (not sure exactly what I thought I'd use this for, but I never did)
• several plastic bags, and two large compression bags which I packed almost all of my clothes in (these worked less well in the "compression" department as time went on, but they were still useful for quarantining dirty clothes, etc.)
• spare atm card and credit card, euros, copy of passport and important numbers in case anything was stolen
• Laundry sheets - I used a whole packet of these. They were really useful and very small to travel with (also not liquid), but you have to be careful and have dry hands or they all melt together in a big mess. Also they don't really suds up and it's hard to tell if you've used enough and/or if you've got them completely rinsed out. But I highly recommend.
  

I also took a backpack as my "personal item" which contained the following:

• laptop
• cell phone
• ipod touch
• bag of 3-1-1 toiletries
• pen and notebook
• auxiliary charger
• 1 book
• shawl/wrap
• jacket
• handiwipes and hand sanitizer (I'm crediting this for keeping us from catching anything on this trip)
• snacks (chocolates, granola bars, m&ms)
• sunglasses
• nalgene bottle (this is really useful because you can dump before security and refill after almost everywhere, and they never give you enough water on planes)
• 1 book crossword puzzles (never used this)
• travel documents
• camera, extra memory card and extra battery and charger for camera
• earplugs
• wallet 1 credit card and atm card
• LED flashlight

The only thing I wish I might have taken that I didn't was a rain jacket. It would have come in handy in Paris but we wouldn't have probably used it until then (maybe on Table Mountain), and I chucked it out of my bag at the last minute. But I'd say that's pretty good.
Whew. That's it, I think. Mr. Bump took a few of these things, but we didn't have much overlap. Part of our dilemma is we needed to dress for safari where we'd go from chilly at dawn to blazing hot in the middle of the day, then Cape Town where we'd be in spring but near the water, and then Paris in the fall, when it rains almost every day. We managed fine but I might take a warmer jacket next time. The one I took was a Nike zip up one, but it was a little thin.

Anyway, this was the content of my bags. It's the night before our trip. All this is packed up and waiting by the front door. The granola bars and apricot scones I made for breakfast the next morning are cooling on the counter. Ruby is already safely ensconced with my mother-in-law. All is ready. Who wants to place bets on whether or not I got any sleep?

home

After three new sets of passport stamps, approximately 20,000 miles flown, 3600 pictures, and 3 continents--we're home. We're fighting the expected post-travel depression, trying to adjust to snow on the ground, and enjoying the chance to cuddle with our little dog. After being up for 23 hours, and a couple of long, sad last legs of flight, I was glad to be home. That won't last forever, but for now it's a good thing. We've taken stock, hit the grocery, started some laundry. We've got about 3600 photos to go through and cull, and about 5 pounds to lose. We've got to start the long slow road to earning money and vacation time for our next big adventure. But it was an amazing, amazing trip. I've got stories for you, I do. Telling them over the next few months will hopefully allow me to cling to the memories of this trip, and make the transition back into real life a little less bumpy.

For now though, I'll leave you with this: I love Paris. I love the food, I love the architecture, the monuments, the art, the language, even the people. Especially the people. There's some great people watching in Paris. *Warning, the following story is not for those with a vivid imagination and an easy gag reflex*

The "but" is this: I have never been in a city that's streets were so smeared in dog shit, so filled with someone puking on this corner or peeing on that one (yes, the man peeing it was in Place Pigalle--where the Moulin Rouge is--but it was also at about 11:00 in the morning) We realized after an incident waiting to go into the towers of Notre Dame where a line full of people managed to smear dog shit to and fro in front of Notre Dame, that it was important to look down, even if you were in amazement over some feat of French architecture. On our last morning in Paris we get up and head down to the boulangerie for a farewell baguette breakfast. As we're going I hear someone across the street who appears to be in the death throes of tuberculosis. We cross the street, given the fact that we have plane travel in our near future. On the way back he's gone, so we pass by where he was. Apparently, he was not hacking up a lung but his last night's dinner. Just in time for us to step over it on our way to breakfast.

After packing everything up, we had a little time before we had to leave, so we decided to walk down along the quay on the Seine. It's lovely, the leaves are turning, it's quiet at 9:30 on a Sunday morning. We put our arms around each other, so happy to be together, to have had this wonderful trip. We hear (and then see) a couple of police boats charging up the Seine, some of whom appear to have dry suits on. They seem to be scanning the river from side to side. And then I realize that there's something strapped to a board, and wrapped up in plastic that looks like it can be nothing other than a body. I ask Mr. Bump if he sees it, and he does, and that's what it looks like to him too. The police have pulled a body out of the Seine, it seems. And given the number of corks stuck in the slats of the pedestrian bridge just above where we're standing, it is chilling but not surprising. We start to wander on, arms around each other and wide-eyed with big city shock, pulling the hayseeds from our teeth. I'm scanning the ground for yellow puddles and/or dog turds when I smell something, aside and behind a corner, that smells horrible. But not in a dog turd kind of way. Our romantic Parisian morning is buzzkilled not only by the body wrapped in plastic on a police boat on the river, but by the toilet someone made for themselves on the quay of the Seine.

Ah, Paris! You sure know how to make someone fall for you. Paris may be for lovers, but the lovers need to make sure they've got shoes they can hose off.

Botswana: words fail me

Thankfully I took a camera along. The best way to describe the whole thing is that it's like having a crazy dream, one where you expect to wake up any minute. We waved goodbye to Botswana from a Cessna and now we're on to Madikwe and Cape Town in South Africa. More soon...

five days

So we have one week five days (although I started this post a couple of days ago, I've dawdled in finishing it) to go before our Big! Trip! to South Africa! Botswana! and Paris! (Oh my god shut up Mrs. Bump.) (But in all seriousness I think it kinda deserves some of those exclamation points.)

We've still got some bits to figure out about cash/ATM/credit cards (done!) to take, figure out if it's worth it to get a Walgreens flu shot (done--but ow! I've never had a flu shot wake me up from my whole arm hurting), and spray the clothes with the bug spray that stays through several washings (this one is not yet done). I'm crazy enough to contemplate making some plane snacks of the baked good variety. Mr. Bump wants to scrub the deck down before we go. We've got to get rid of the produce from our CSA share. Anyone interested in some fairytale eggplants, pattipan squash, or a head of cabbage two weeks old? I've still got to get everything stuffed into my luggage. I've got to try and wrangle with my insurance for extra days of my medications since they're going to run out on the trip. Mr. Bump has virtually no books so we've got to find some that we'll both read and maybe find him some Kindle or Stanza books. Gah--not ready! Not Ready!!!

I'm a list maker extraordinaire, but there are lists. Oh people, the lists for this trip! List of meds to take, lists of chargers (by the way, anyone seen my cell phone charger? ...anyone? ...anyone?) and power supplies, itineraries, lists of phone numbers. You'd think we were going away for years. Ah, if only. I've got almost everything laid out on the bed in the spare room, which bothers Mr. Bump to no end. (Sorry honey!)

But I can't help the constant companion of these lists, which is the nagging feeling that I've left something off them. Is it the end of the world if I forget something? No. Even though we're going to Africa, even though we're going to be in remote locations for some portion of the trip, I can probably pick up whatever I forget in Johannesburg or elsewhere. Because of our weight and space limitations for the light aircraft portions of our trip, everything must fit in one soft-sided duffel bag and a backpack. I have the advantage of not schlepping heavy camera equipment, which buys me an extra 10 pounds or so over Mr. Bump. But let's face it, I could easily make that up in books, makeup, and shoes.

The one thing I do hope to bring along on this trip is you, dear reader. I make no promises but I hope that I'll be able to blog on occasion, share some photos and whatnot from Cape Town and Paris. I hope you can join me for updates as we go.

P.S. Oh and yeah, my Half-Marathon is two days away. I'm trying not to think too hard about it. I'm ready. I mean I have to pick out my race outfit and figure out where to stash my shot blocks and whether I'm going to bring my own water, and I still have to pick up my race packet and figure out parking. (Shaddup.) I've got a short easy run to finish up my training tonight, drink lots and lots of water today and some of tomorrow (but not too much--not a fan of the porta-pottie, especially someplace where everyone using it is in a hurry ifyouknowwhatimean). And then I'm done. And then we're on to The Great Adventure. I'm trying not to see the big ol' ball of stress hunched over in the corner rocking back and forth just in my peripheral vision.

P.P.S. Questions for you: what are your go-to plane snacks? I've got 22-22 on-plane hours. I want to make sure I'm fully prepared in the snack department. I'm probably going to avoid salt as much as I can. Also, music? Any and all suggestions will be greatly appreciated. I have 6 episodes of This American Life, 6 Prairie Home Companions (just the News from Woebegon), and one of Radio Lab--any other podcasts I might enjoy? They are good for bus rides to work, so I think they'll work well for plane travel as well. I'm going to put a couple of movies on my iPod, and the plane has a fairly good selection of movies too. Hopefully somewhere in there I'll get some sleep too (I pray at the temple of Benadryl, in case you're wondering where I place my faith). Please share--I love to hear what everyone else does to while away the plane time!

i dream of africa

Ok, so Africa is now bought and paid for and I'm looking forward to it. And even though it is 8 weeks away, I'm getting started on all the things I do before big trips, like make lots of lists of things to bring and do. I love a good list--it makes me feel like I've got control of something.

So I've got a camera. I've got luggage. I've got two pairs of travel knickers (although one pair has gone missing. I can't lose a $16 pair of knickers, people! Let me know if you've seen them. I promise amnesty for the knickers if they just return to me!). I've got all the appropriate clothes and shoes (I think), including a sweater/wrap-like thing for the plane, which will be blanket and sweater combined.

On the technology from we're still weighing the laptop concept, which would be good and yet we're not real sure how much/often we'll get to use it. We've got a sim based cell phone that is unlocked. To some extent I think we might be in the territory of overkill with some of this stuff--we'll see what makes the cut.

I've got an iPod touch which should take care of a good portion of the rest of my media needs. I have the Kindle app for it, and I'm planning on loading a ton of books, some movies and a whole lotta music on there, along with game apps and hope that keeps me occupied for some of the extreme amount of time that we're in the air.

So what else is an absolute travel essential that I'm forgetting? What is the thing that you can't live without when you travel? Please let me know so I don't forget it, bearing in mind that all my stuff has to fit into a 22 inch duffel on wheels and a backpack. I know there exists a contingent of people who will just tell me to take a credit card and my passport and go, but sorry sweetie--that ain't me. I need to keep stuff to a minimum, but there will be stuff.

My next question for you is what books do you recommend I take? I need things that are good page turners. Things that can sustain me through the long hours cramped in to steerage. Throw out your suggestions, even if they aren't available for the Kindle. I'm waiting with bated breath!

news at 11:00

I've been thinking about a clever way to write this post for the last few days, and I am now throwing my hands up at clever now. I guess I'm all out of clever at the moment.

It's been a big fat week in Bumptown. I'm going with the gloss here rather than highs and lows and tears that happened at the beginning of the week. As Elizabeth Bennet says: "In cases such as these, a good memory is unpardonable." So gloss, gloss it is.

We made our final (gulp) payment for our South Africa trip, so it is fairly safe to say we'll be jetting off to South Africa in 8 1/2 weeks time. Man that was a whole lotta money. But now we can look forward to it--stop dwelling at just be excited for what lies ahead.

Eight weeks is also the amount of time left until the half-marathon--8 weeks and 2 days, to be precise. I'm excited--I've run 10.22 miles in 2 hours so I'm hoping I can make it in less than 3 hours.

We also got an offer on the Homestead, the house Mr. Bump and his brother inherited from their grandparents. Cross your fingers for us, please, that everything goes well. If it does escrow will close before the South Africa trip.

And (drumroll please...) I think I can safely, officially say that I have lost 100 pounds. As of this morning it was actually 102 pounds, but some of that is water loss from my workout last night. But I've got to say, for some reason it seems anti-climactic. I guess it was so slow in coming, these last few pounds, that it wasn't dramatic. It was like, "Oh--what do you know. I've hit the Diamond Earring Weight. Huh." So much else is going on, maybe the number doesn't matter as much as I thought it would. And I guess I've got further goals out there, so maybe that's why. I've yet to hit that magic number which means my BMI falls into the "healthy weight" category. That's something I'm thinking toward. I'm also thinking about how kind of icky and saggy my body looks (oh the horror of bending over, people), despite all I've done. I think I'm going to have to focus on the dreaded strength training. Maybe now that the weight loss is not so urgent in terms of Reaching! a Goal! I can focus on other ways of being healthy and strong. And my arms looking better in a tank top.

And there is the fact that despite achieving the Diamond Earring Weight, there will be no diamond earrings. Not for a while, anyway. For further details see above paragraph re: enormous payment for South Africa trip. And although this is self-imposed (sort of), it makes the reaching that goal a bit of a letdown I guess. There are all sorts of ways I suppose I could reward myself, but I'm sort of meh on those. I want to get what I want, so I say I'll just wait. But there's something a small voice inside my head keeps pointing out every so often: I really don't feel like I deserve to spend that much money on myself anyway. Who wants to pick that apart for me?

So I don't know. That's probably the biggest reason I have been wrestling with this post. I'm rolling that admission around in my mouth and I don't particularly like it, but it rings true enough that I can't just spit it out. A lot of this whole weight loss thing, particularly these last 50 pounds (since last December) is purely mental. After you lose the weight, along with the extra skin comes a lot of other stuff that doesn't melt away by physically getting rid of the fat. I know I've read/heard about that from other people, but it really is true. It isn't a huge, psyche damaging thing, but it is now part of the mix. I don't feel any different, and when I look at pictures of my old self I still truly believe that is how I look. Part of it is only just realizing what I looked like then in the reflection of what I look like now.

Here's another thing: I catch myself looking at more overweight people, maybe who don't even weigh as much as I once did, and I sort of mentally tsk at them for an instant, and then catch myself almost immediately. I am so grateful to all the people in my life who never mentioned my weight. First and foremost the wonderful Mr. Bump. To the people who did feel like the needed to intervene with a comment, I appreciate where you heart was at. But I promise you no one needs the fact that they are overweight or fat pointed out to them. Trust me, you know you're fat. This may sound like I'm at the end of a journey and I'm summing up, but I'm not. I've got miles to go before I'm svelte. Or done. Or no longer in need of my scale.