So here it is. The first glimpse into my crazy mind. I woke up this morning a little groggy after a fitful night's sleep. Didn't think I'd snap out of it in time for my Dr.'s appointment. But one latte and bowl of oatmeal with accoutrements later, I was raring and ready to go. Until I tried to 'slip' into my jeans. Slip would not be the appropriate word here. Struggle, wiggle, bend up and down so they would stretch to the comfortable fit is a more apropos description. It's a great way to start the day mentally. Already, within the first two hours of my day I'm thinking, "I need to lose weight".  Fabulous. The last thing I needed was to get on a scale at the doctor's office. I was dreading it already, hoping for some reason the nurse would have a brain fart and forget that part. 
That's like wishing you never found out Santa Claus wasn't real. It's not going to happen. So reluctantly, I removed every piece of jewelry, clothing article and zipper I could.  This was not an appointment for which I had to get undressed. I wish it were. I needed every ounce at this point. This number could potentially devestate me for the greater part of the rest of the year. So I did what any self-respecting, confident, brave woman would do. I stepped on backwards. And made sure I didn't even TRY to sneak a peak and the nurse's records. It was bad enough other people know my weight. I didn't need to. At least it shaved my mental torture down to about a day or two.  I am sure I will be visited by ghosts of scales and flying numbers this evening. 
I came home still thinking, "Shit my jeans are too tight against my hips and butt and I need to pare things down." So I decided while the purple kale in my fridge may have been past its due date for cooking purposes, I could probably get some use out of juicing it. And I've had apples and lemons and ginger in there I need to use up. The way I saw it,  I needed to be juicing more if I am going to be any lighter by tomorrow. Such a reasonable goal, right?
Let me tell you, anyone who tells you juicing is easy is quite frankly, LYING. No you won't pull any muscles doing it (unless you just can't seem to get that dull knife through the rind of the lemon) and it's not an intense cardio workout, but it's a labor of love. You have to really LOVE your juices to put up with the cutting en masse and large mess. Two notes for you. First: Kale? Not that great to juice. These little flakes of kale ended up all over my counter and my kitchen, and yes, even on my very nice, pretty expensive sweater I treated myself to a few weeks ago. It was my one big fall purchase, along with a classic Theory blazer. Anyway, although the kale did provide a nice purple type hue to the final product, it didn't produce much juice. I'd stick to other greens such as wheatgrass (where just a little adds a very potent 'green' flavor) or spinach. 
Second, make sure you clean your juicer ASAP. No time to sit and enjoy that great healthy beverage you just spent twenty minutes preparing and making. You have to start running those parts and blades under hot hot water NOW. With my juicer I get my WHOLE HAND in there and scoop out all the appetizing remaining pulp and put it in one of those plastic produce bag (which originally held my kale, apples, etc.) There are not many moments when I think, gee, I really wish I were into composting. But this is definitely one of them. So much great raw material. 
Then, I clean that thing out and set it to dry. The bodies aren't even cold yet. It's the only way to do it. Otherwise, you'll convince yourself you'll do it later and you never will because as the days go by, it gets nastier and nastier to the point where you just want to throw the thing out. And you can't, because they are so darn expensive and then you berate yourself for ever buying one in the first place. It's a vicious cycle. If you love your juice, I highly recommend a juicer. Just do yourself a favor and clean the thing. End of story.
So now I had some glorious kale, apple, lemon, ginger juice that would probably last me all of, oh, one day.
But mess aside, I am so glad I did it and immediately felt better for treating my body to what it deserves. 
After my juice fiasco, I headed to yoga where, out of nowhere, I did my first tri-pod headstand! No drama. No falling all over the place! We were in crow. From there, the instructor told us to put our head on the ground. OK, check. And then whoop! Up went my legs. Who knew? This sudden rush of excitement (or could it have been the sudden rush of blood to the head?) made me forget all about the limitations or pitfalls of my body and my ass and filled me with sheer joy. I'm up! I'm up!
So for the rest of the evening, I forgot about my size, jeans, and weight and exaulted in my strength and abilities. 
And I'm going to go celebrate with a glass of wine.