The day of the ultimate grief. He is on the cross now. Shops are closed till noon, when Jesus is taken off the cross and is taken by His beloved to His grave. The bells are sad, you can hear them in every neighborhood.

We usually eat just bread, tomatoes, olives, and boiled potatoes with vinegar this day. Plain food, no oil. And in the evening, we go to the Epitaph procession. After the first part of the mass, the younger priests take the epitaph, get it out of the church, and walk it with the people following around each neighbourhood. In big areas, like downtown Athens, where the churches are plenty, all the epitaphs meet in the centre and you can see thousands of people following the route, holding bee wax canddles. A sea of tiny flames really.

And on Good Saturday, the feast begins. Men and women are up early to begin the preparations. The men deal with the lamb and the kokoretsi (a medley of skewered innards wrapped tightly in intestine, doused with lemon, and either spit-roasted or baked). They tie the lamb to the spit, and let it stand all day for all the juices to flow. The kokoretsi takes hours of preparation. First, to clean all the intestines, wash them many times, turn them inside out. Then prepare the innards, spice them with salt, pepper, oreganon, put then on the spit, then wrap them with meters and meters of intestines.

In the meantime, women prepare the mageiritsa, a lemony lamb soup made mostly with the animal's offal, and lots of fresh lettuce and dill. And when I say lots of fresh lettuce, I mean 4-5 lettuces per kilo of offal and innards. Everything (lettuce, lotsa shallots, dill, innards and offal) are cut in tiny pieces, sauteed in butter mixed with olive oil, then cooked for a long time in low heat, till tender. A light lunch is consumed, pretty much like Good Friday, a nap is taken, and then the preparations for dinner begin. The good tableclothes get out of the drawers, crispy white linen ones mostly, the table is set, with the basket with the red dyed eggs on the centre of the table. People wear dressy clothes, and leave for church around 11 in the evening, all holding their special canddles, decorated with flowers and ribbons, or just long, plain white ones, and with a red egg in their pockets.

When the holy light gets distributed in the church, everyone lights their canddles, and this light goes home too. A cross is formed 3 times on the door of the house, and this light is kept in the vigil for 40 days. But when the bells ring happily, everyone is singing the resurrection hymn, and hug each other, strangers too, and kiss in both cheecks and one says: Jesus resurrected and the other replies: Resurrected indeed! Then the red eggs get out. We hold the egg on our palm, with the top free, and the partner take their egg and with the top of their egg they clink the other egg. Then they turn the bottom too and do the same. The one holding the egg that did not break is the lucky one. You have no idea how many eggs are used to play like this. Of course, before you hit the other's egg, you got to say Jesus ressurected, and they have to reply Ressurected indeed!

With so many broken eggs, egg salads are a staple the days to follow...

Some stay in church for the late night communion, which takes place around 2 am. It is beautiful. In our religion, you have to have confessed and fasted to be ready to take communion. Only on Good Saturday, the priest stands and calls the people to commune saying:

Come...sinners or not, fasters or not, thiefs or not, killers or not, confessers or not. He resurrected for you all and tonight your sins will all be erased with this communion of love and hope.

It brings tears to my eyes.

Women usually leave earlier to go home and finish the mageiritsa. They add the egg-lemon thingy to it, and finish setting the table. Then the happy dinner starts.

Noone goes to bed before 3 or 4 am and yet everyone is up by 7 am! The holes are digged, the coal gets on fire, the spits start turning. Everyone takes turns in turning the lamb and the kokoretsi. Altough there are machines to do this, most of the people still turn it with their hands. Lotsa wine is consumed, traditional greek songs play loudly, poeple are dancing, eating, laughing.

Angelos' unkle (his mom's brother) got in the hospital yesterday. Pneumonia. He was lucky, he will be fine. But he will spend Easter in the hospital. Angelos and I are seriously considering not leaving for the summer house today. We are thinking of calling our parents and ask them to come here for the Good Saturday dinner. Then leave bright and early on Sunday to go to the summer house and stay there till Monday evening. I just don't feel well thinking of my parents and his parents eating alone on Saturday night. My inlaws were supposed to go to this uncle's summer house. And my father is very tired from work, it is really busy that time of the year witht he fast and the seafood consumption, and needs to rest. But if we stay here, they will all rest and yet get to have a family dinner.

I weighed in this morning. pah...88.5 still. And I am really going to eat a lot tomorrow and sunday. I know it, I expect it, and I am not going to fight it either. It is part of the feast and I am not resisting!

I have come up with a challenge, starting May 2nd. A 30 day challenge. We are moving around June 1st the lattest. We gave the first rent as downpayment in the new appartment yesterday. I am getting excited. But since the building is brand new, they still have to connect electricity and water. They expect this will be done by May 10. Then we got to paint it, then move. I will tell you all about it soon, the challenge and the new appartment!

Right...I got to go call our parents now and see what we will do!

It is eggs' day today. All households dye their eggs red today. There are two explanations for this. There was a woman who heard that Jesus was resurected, and did not believe it. She was holding a basket with eggs, and said, if a man can come back from death, then surely these eggs can turn red. And ta da! The eggs got red. But the sympolism of the red dyed eggs is really the blood Jesus spilled for humanity. Red eggs symbolise the ultimate sacrifice, and therefore must be done on the day Jesus was crusified.

Eggs used to be dyed only red. And in the old years (and also now, in the modern organic era, where we tend to go back to basic things) they used the outside dry leaves of red onions to paint them. It is a ritual really. First, we are talking about at least 3 dozens of eggs per household. Because the eggs, along with the cookies and the tsoureki's (you cannot imagine how my entire house smells with all these cookies and tsourekis!) fill the baskets. First we boil them hard, and then we dig them on the red paint, take them out one by one, let them dry, and then rub them with a cotton cloth soaked in olive oil, so they get all shiny. More colours were added as the years passed. Yellow, orange, and green, to add the effect of the landscape's awakening for spring. Yellow for the daisies, green for the grass.

Women take flowers and wreaths to church in the evening mass. And today and tomorrow we also take wreaths to the graves of our beloved deseased. After midnight, young girls and women go to the church, and decorate the epitaph all night. Older women murmuring hymns, young girls secretly giggling, an excitement for the priviledge of decorating the epitaph so vibrant in the air.

*********************

And today both Angelos and I started our holidays. And we are going to go soon and see the two appartments I have concluded as being the best to decide which one we are taking. I was really very excited yesterday, I was thinking about decorating and moving and it gave me such a strong feeling of a new start. One appartment has an extra pluss, and this is a very good gym 5 minutes away by foot. If we decide on this one, I will sell the treadmill, use the money to paint the house, and buy a yearly subscription to the gym.Both houses are reshly painted, but all walls are white. I cannot live in a white house. I need colour. Honestly, white walls make me think of mental institutions!

But I have woken up sad this morning. I have lived in this street since 1980. For 25 years I am taking the same route back home. My parents live two houses down the street. I like waking up in the morning in the summer, getting out on the balcony and hearing all these familiar "good morning's".

Of course, I woke up with cramps too, cos I just got my period. Which sort of explains the extra sadness.

Also a part of me is very insecure for leaving here and the proximity to my mother. I keep thinking ... what if something happens again. What if she needs me and I am away. I am really trying to take this step. Besides the few problems we have in this appartment, plus the lack of storage space, and the need for an extra bedroom and big balconies, all these consisting the practical issues for the move, the main reason I have decided to move was that I need to free myself from the fear of my mom needing me again due to sickness. I have to repeat to myself every day that she is fine now and will go on being fine and will live many years more.

Right, I will weigh in tomorrow, just before we leave for the summer house. And I will give you good Friday, the basics of good Saturday too. Easter Sunday was thoroughly described by this article. We will be back on Monday night, and I will take as many photos as I can for you. I will show you the preparation of mageiritsa, the meal we have on saturday after midnight mass, I will take pictures of all the people holding canndles in the church, I will give you as much more of greek easter as I can :)

Cheers for now!

My arms are so sore from all this kneading! When I am doing things like this, I always think of how hard women in the past worked. For every loaf of bread in the house there was hard work that was done. For every clean shirt, for every cooked meal, there was really hard work.

Good Wednesday today, and the tsoureki's will be baked later tonight, after church. It is the holy oil of wish tonight. Olive oil is part of many christian orthodox rituals. The oil of wish is a special ceremony, where the priest holifies the oil, and then you take a small quantity in a small piece of cotton, and you rub it to your forehead, heart, and hands, so your thoughts (forehead), your feelings (heart) and your actions (hands) be nobel. The ceremony of Good Wednesday is the most important one, and this oil is kept all year through, till it is replaced with the new one, the coming Good Wednesday.

I found something on the web about greek easter for you. The english is so much better than mine, and it gives a very good explanation about Easter. So I am pasting it for you here. It really shows how food is part of our culture, and how specific things are eaten in certain holidays. I should have done Christmas for you too, now I think of it. Ah well...next year...

I have to rush today, because I have to go see a couple of apartments, go to work, then do my therapy session (oi oi ), then come home and deal with my tsoureki's.

I am still bloated and pms-y and I am not getting on the scales today! My period will come any day now. Tis silly to get upset with a number since I have been eating well and using the treadmill every day this week so far :)

So here it goes...

Easter is by far the holiest of Greek holidays, but it is also the most joyous, a celebration of spring, of rebirth in its literal as well as figurative sense. Easter is also called "Lambri" in Greek, which is translated into "shiness". The same shiness that follows the beginning of spring and of new life.

The stereotype image of Greek Easter is a familiar one: whole lambs on a spit, slowly roasting, red-dyed eggs, and braided sweet breads, those, too, studded with red eggs.Easter is by far the holiest of Greek holidays, but it is also the most joyous, a celebration of spring, of rebirth in its literal as well as figurative sense. Greeks leave the cities in droves to spend Easter in the countryside, usually in their own ancestral villages.

Food, of course, is central to the festivities, but not all Greeks eat the same Easter meal. The "traditional" Easter table varies regionally, although all over the country it mirrors that same age-old wisdom that nothing should be wasted. If one has fasted for 40 long days, abstaining from meats and dairy products, then the notion of savoring every last morsel is even more important.

Different Foods from Region to Region. Regional Greek Easter dishes have evolved from the natural environment-the geography, the lay of the land, what is available -place by place, as well as on the tastes and origins of local populations. The holiday is also a culinary celebration of spring, a time when the normally dust-dry Greek landscape bursts with color and vegetation. Fresh herbs and tender young greens-dill, wild fennel, lemon balm, lettuce, sorrel and spinach, among other things-crop up on island and mainland menus both.Cheese, eggs, and richly scented breads play an important part on the table, but the meal is always centered around meat. On the mainland, generally, lamb is the meat of choice. In the islands, especially in the Aegean, it is goat.

Those heroic feasts so many of us are familiar with lamb roasted whole on the spit, in other words-are really a custom of Roumeli (Central mainland Greece) and the Pelopponese alone. The practice has been adopted in other regions moistly because it is fun.Aegean and other Island TraditionsIn the Aegean, local cooks still abide by their own age-old traditions. In islands such as Andros, Samos, Ikaria, Lesvos, and Rhodes, the custom is to stuff a whole side of goat and bring it to the village baker early on Easter Sunday. The stuffings vary slightly from place to place, but more or less include rice, any available fresh herbs, from dill and fennel to more esoteric herbs such as lemon balm and poppy leaves, sometimes nuts and raisins, and sometimes the liver or other innards from the lamb or goat.

Fresh Spring Cheeses. Another culinary rite of spring in the Aegean is the preparation of a specific, seasonal, fresh cheese. Its name varies from island to island, but more or less it is the same product, a soft, fresh, very mild-sometimes not even salted-curd cheese that is used as a filling in numerous Easter pastries. These pastries are usually in the form of small tartlets of varying shapes. Some are shaped like stars, others like little packets, others still rolled into logs, flavored with either cinnamon, or orange blossom water, or mahlepi (a cherry kernel). Combinations of cheese and lamb or goat are also common. One of the most unusual is a pie made on the western side of Crete called Paschalini tourta ("Easter Torte"). It looks almost like brioche, filled with soft whey cheese, and lamb, and seasoned with cinnamon. Elsewhere, the combination of meat and cheese takes a different form. In Andros, the Paschal goat or lamb is richly filled with fresh cheese and eggs, in addition to the standard rice. In Rhodes, one of the Dodecanese islands, another stuffed goat dish called Lambriatis, which means bright and is synonymous with Easter, sometimes includes the local kefalotyri, a hard yellow sheep's milk cheese, as well as spring onions, parsley, dill, rice and innards. The whole thing is cooked in a deep clay dish sealed with a cover of dough.

Breaking the Fast. The Easter table everywhere in Greece is supposed to be as lavish and filling as possible, even though the Fast itself is broken with a few, very specific foods.After 40 days of abstaining from all animal products, it would be very difficult indulge in a huge feast without first, well, warming up to it. In the Greek tradition that means a small meal after the midnight Mass on Saturday night. The most widely engrained tradition is to make and serve mageiritsa, a lemony lamb soup made mostly with the animal's offal, and lots of fresh lettuce and dill. The midnight meal also includes the traditional Easter bread and hard-boiled red-dyred eggs.

Offal, even in these food-fearing times, still plays a prominent role on the table. Its widespread use and acceptance is a reflection of every traditional cook's ingrained sense of economy-everything is used and consumed. In the Ionian island of Corfu, for example, the Lenten fast is broken with a delicate dish called tsilikortha, made with sauted liver seasoned with dill, parsley, mint, and vinegar, or in some recipes, with cinnamon, cloves, and oregano. Corfu also is one of the few places in the country where mageiritsa is not the dish of choice with which to break the fast. Traditionally, mageiritsa in Corfu isn't a soup at all, but a stew with a thick egg-and-lemon sauce. Off the islands and onto the mainland, especially in Thessaly and Macedonia, people show a pronounced appetite for offal in every shape and form. A local specialty in Thessaly is lamb's caul stuffed with innards and herbs and baked in tomato sauce. Farther north, in parts of Macedonia, where much of the local population emigrated from Asia Minor, another dish made with caul fat is called sarma. There, it is filled with sweetbreads and liver, rice and herbs. A similar dish, called trimma, may also be found in Epirus, over the Pindus Mountains, in northwestern Greece. There, ample eggs, liver, sorrel (one of the many local wild greens), breadcrumbs, and cheese make up the filling. By far, though, the best-known offal specialty of the Greek easter table is kokkoretsi, a medley of skewered innards wrapped tightly in intestine, doused with lemon, and either spit-roasted or baked. One of the most interesting offal dishes comes from Lamia in a dish called souflitses, a kind of dolma made with lettuce leaves and liver baked in tomato sauce.

For most Greeks, Easter symbolizes many things at once. The table is a reflection of tradition as well as, albeit it temporarily, of the realities of nature. The ingredients, the seasonings, and the dishes might differ from place to place, but on the rural or regional Greek Easter table there is always one rule surely followed: Nothing must be wasted!

Today the mass is about Mary Magdalene, and I love this. I love the part of the hymn that goes like "the woman that fell into too many sins". It gives me hope. I feel like it speaks of me. It makes me count my sins in the most positive way, and then makes me count the work that has been done towards conquering these sins. Still a road to travel, but part of the distance already travelled....

My house smells of butter. And cookies. I have always found it weird. When I am fasting, I never eat anything that is not included in the allowerd food for the fast. No matter how hungry I am, how tired of the tastes I might be, I never cheat while fasting. If only I could keep the feeling while dieting, I would have been 55 kilos by now...lol

Good Tuesday is second cookie recipe baking day. It is also god children shopping day. We give specific presents to the god children for easter. Three things: A big chocolate egg, a fancy wax candle that is decorated with stuff like ribbons, flowers, toys, crystals, really depends on the age of the receiver. (There are barbie candles, disney candles, to sophisticated candles decorated with real swarowsky crystals. These candles are taken to the church mass on Good Saturday, in midnight, where the light from the holy grave has been brought to Athens by plane, and is distributed to all the churches all around greece.) And a pair of shoes. So that the child will have a new pair of shoes to walk through the new life directed by Jesus's ultimate sacrifice.

It is also shopping day for the ingredients of the second traditional Easter thingy that will go to the baskets. These are called "tsoureki" and I have tried to find a word in so many dictionaries for many years. The one I found was a complete dissapointment. "A kind of bun"

This is made by yeast, flour, many eggs, butter, sugar, anice, and masticha. It is usually formed on the size of a big loaf of bread, and it is shaped like a big braid, or a big round spiral. It is soft and yummy. And it is a very hard work to make them. First, because all women have too many to make. For their families, for their relatives, for the god children, for friends. We are talking about at least 4 kilos of flour into the recipe. I am using 5 kilos. And it takes lots of time to make too. Cos first, you take the yeast and some warm water and a bit of flour, and work with it, then wait for 3-4 hours till it rises. Then you add the rest of the ingredients and you knead forever. Because the essential trick for complete success is excess kneading. This is what makes it so soft and gives it a special texture you only find in this. Then, you have to let it rest and rise for at least 6 hours. But if you leave it for around 10, then it super rises and it gets so wonderful. Then you have to knead it again. Then let it rest and rise again, another 4 to 6 hours. Then you shape it in braids, put it in the trays, let it rise again for a couple of hours, brush it with egg yolk, sprinkle it with toasted and sliced almonds, then bake them one by one, because the exterior dries out if you bake them in the air function. I am making about 20 of those, in smaller size actually, so I can fit two in a tray. Yet, it takes me about 5 hours to bake them all! I usually start with the yeast on Tuesday evening, and I knead the first time just before bed (and while the cookies are almost done) and let it rest all night. I use the same basin I use to take the laundry out to hang it. And when I add the ingredients to the yeast and knead, it fills about the 1/4 of the basin. And when I wake up in the morning, it usually falls out of the basin.

***********************************

I have an appointment at 7 this evening to see yet another appartment. I have seen 21 so far. Call me picky, but our current appartment is really very nice, besides the small balconies and a few other things. We mainly want to move cos of the silly neighbours we have who are not only silly but noisy silly too. And when we have sex on Sunday afternoons they hit the wall to our bedroom because they can hear us. But I can hear them snoaring sometimes too. Fake walls. So we are looking for specific things. 3 bedrooms, big balconies, niceness. And top floor if possible, so we won't hear our neighbour's heels like we do now.

My weight is up 500 gr since yesterday. 88.6. Irrational. I am not upset, I know its the bloat from my period arriving in the next couple of days at max. I am weirdly pms'ing, more on the quiet sad - ish side.

We will not spend Easter with Vangelis and Sofia. I am a bit sad about it too, I was really looking forward to a traditional village Easter. But they can't go due to works in their house, and although they offered us the keys to their house, it won't be fun without them. So it is the summer house most prolly, though we are taking this decision tonight.

Right, off to the shower now. Did I tell you that today was the second day of 30 mins in the treadmill? I am slowly coming back to my morning workouts! But I feel really tired after 15 mins, getting to 30 is such a struggle!!! My poor body is so overworked! But I feel so much better during the day!

Therapy last night was really tough again. I am really resisting I am afraid. We are dealing with my state as a fetus and this is painful. But as I was leaving, he told me that we have the base rock to tear down now. And when we do, all other rocks, who have been leaning on this one, will just drop and break and disappear forever. I liked this image. I actually heard the sound of rocks breaking into thousand pieces in my head! And he told me that this marathon is all about -oops...I don't know the english word...errrr... pre-being-born could be an explanation - traumas. I am so scared yet so looking forward to it.

I am really very tired. I was actually discussing with Angelos the other day which would be more beneficial for me, take the marathon, or sleep all weekend. Yes, on Saturday the festival finally ends!!! It was really great, went so well, we did an amazing job too. We have a HUGE book with press clippings and interviews, VHS's with tv shows where the artists were the guests, CD's with radio comments and interviews, we should have charged them double...hehehe

I am so looking forward to Easter. Monday marks the start of the Orthodox Easter week. Each day has its ritual. Each day is a day for something. I feel like touring you all to through the Greek Easter day by day, do you feel like it? Although I consider Christmas my favourite holiday, Easter is really a big love of mine. It is quietly spiritual and openly traditional, and it makes me feel my Greek heritage more than any other festivity.

My weight is back to 88.5. I am really positive now that by Tuesday, as I said last Tuesday when I saw the friggin 91.5, I will be back to my sweet 87.5. And I am really back to eating perfectly. I try to walk to most of my appointments, at least the ones between 2 to 4 km distance from work. I still manage my 6 km a day, but not in the super fast pace I used to have. And not in the treadmill, besides that one workout last tuesday too. I have discovered that walking in the street just "keeps things in order", doesn't do the job the consistency of the treadmill does. And I am seriously considering weights now. (you have persuaded me dg ;). In Easter, we also exchange presents in Greece. Specific kind of things though (I won't tell you till its the right day ;) but I am seriously considering to ask my mom to buy me weights this year.

Angelos and I decided to look for a new appartment. So on top of all I am also house-hunting! I saw five yesterday, none was close to what the ad said. I really don't understand why people do this....

Anyway, I got to get to the shower now, and get ready for yet another 14 hr day.

Have you seen anything sweeter today? It's from her Family Day at her ballet class last Saturday, which I missed cos I had to work with my dad, but my sweet sister in law took a ton of pics for me!

Ah my heart is so warm, and proud too!!!

And I figured out how to post photos here from flickr too! Ain't I smart? hehehe

Signed,

Silly auntie!

I think I have mentioned before that therapy has become very difficult and demanding lately. For someone who has been well known for starting things with a passion and abondoning them with boredom, therapy and this weight loss journey are the only things in my life that I have shown the same eagerness and determination to properly finish them both. I do not think I would have been in any of the two without the other, not for so long, not still struggling regardless the set backs or the feelings.

I begun therapy on November 25, 2001. I remember the date because it was a sunday and it was my dad's birthday too. I take 46 sessions a year. We have August off, one week off in christmas, and one week off in easter. And I take 4 marathons a year. Usually its in the beginning of each season. The spring marathon is this coming weekend.

So after 150 sessions and about 14 marathons, I would expect things would get less painful. But the opposite happens. I guess it is like going on a diet. The last bunch of kilos are the toughest to loose. They have stayed longer in the body than the rest, they are so firmly incorporated to who you are, that actually loosing them is like signing the final contract of change. I have seen people who have lost incredible amounts of weight and still have a little 5 kilos to reach goal, that take a back turn and gain it all back. I have seen it online a little, but mostly offline, among friends and aqcuitances. I have seen it in myself twice too!

Before therapy, that seemed utterly idiotic to me. Even when I did it myself, I really felt it was just something stupid. How else can you describe this? Working your arse off for months and months to get rid of a great amount of weight to just wake up one day and have a dozen dognuts for breakfast? And then go on with eating like this?

Now that I am so "cornered" in therapy, I can understand this so much better.

When you start therapy consiously, you know you have to deal with two things in abundance. Pain and anger. The more tears you shed, the more clean you feel your soul. The more punches you throw on the pillows, the more fresh you feel your heart. But after three and a half years, I believed that I was done with anger. And pain. Mostly I thought I was done with pain.

Perhaps it is just my school of therapy. Body Psychotherapy is a weird train to take the ride. It goes back to when you were a tiny seed in your mother's womb. It shows that most of your phobias and pain have been well established by the time you were a fetus, to the age of 9 months old. These are the last kilos one has to shed. Because there is no rational memory of then, it is really hard and so very painful. Your therapist will say the right words, and all of a sudden you will feel like a little baby and start ctying and screaming and you have absolutely no idea why. It is frustrating. It is different to cry your eyes out remembering when the exact thing that made you so sad happened, the room, your clothes, your mother's words. But it is really something else to feel the most pain you have ever felt in your 36 years and don't know why.

My mother had a very rough pregnancy with me. She had to stay in bed for 6 months with a lot of bleeding and pills of hormones to keep me. She almost lost me twice. I know it will sound so weird to you, but I have experienced my almost death when I was 20 weeks old in my mother's womb. A long time ago actually. And it cured my acrophobia instantly. I remember it was a Friday, and on Saturday morning I took Angelos (who has been parachuting a lot ) to an amusement park, and went to the Mega Drop ride. It is a tower with 3 seats in each side, 50 meters high, where they tie you to the seat, then it climbes up, you stay up for 3 to 6 minutes (time always varries) and they suddenly drop you so fast. They make you take your shoes off unless they have laces that tie when you go!

I do not talk about these things. Not with friends, not with Angelos. I do not even talk a lot about these things here. But lately I have been really stunned. And quiet. And in pain. Inside me. A pain so old I can not recognise. A pain so old I cannot describe.

My therapist told me that I could stop. He told me that I have reached the point where I am well. I have cleansed my soul. I know now. I can handdle. I can enjoy. I can trust. He told me I am getting into too unknown territory. That most people do not even go there. But he reassured me that should I choose to go on, the ride will be long and painful, but the result will be so much worthy. So I decided to dig in. I was really tempted to stop you know. I would stop the weekly sessions and would save me 60 euros a week. I could see him when and if I felt the need to vent. And I could still participate in the maratthons if I wanted. And most importantly, I would stop at the point I felt I was ready to conquer the world. About a month ago.

But now I am back on the train and I refuse to get off in the next stop. Not untill I see the last of this road.

Really, therapy to me is the exact same thing with weightloss. Finishing them both the way I should, by really reaching the finish line, will be consiously signing the contract. Accepting my worth. Feeling able to admit that I once wanted to change. And I have managed to accept and recognised my need. As much as I have managed to accept and recognise who I really am.

I am a woman. Not just a person. A woman. Who still has to negotiate a difficult road. But who has (almost) got fond of walking.

I have been eating like there is not going to be food on earth for at least a decade. Since Friday evening, after the stress about my mother sort of subsided, I begun the grand fest. Friday night we ate pittas with gyros. Not too bad. Saturday, I got up at 5.45 am to go work in my dad's fish - shop, since mom was still on the hospital and would not check out before noon. Then I returned home from the shop at 3 pm, went to the supermarket, then back home, had scrabbled eggs for lunch, a bit of a nap, and then cooking begun. The gang wanted Mexican, so Mexican it was.

Angelos loved his party. And I loved the food in the party.

And yesterday, I was eating left overs all day.

I feel sick. And I am upset too. I realised last night that when I am going through too much stress, food is still the thing that I turn to.

No way I am getting on the scales today....

I have not been not posting to check my popularity. Nor have I not been posting because I am extremelly busy at work. Well, I have 14 hr long working days, sometimes longer than this. But even in these super busy days, I always find some time to post, because it always clears my head and relaxes me. Also the reason is not that I saw an enormous gain of 2.6 kg on Monday, just 4 days after my gorgeous 87.5.

I did not eat bad, I just drunk a couple of vodkas on Saturday night, and I had been constipated for 3 days too. Which is a traumatic experience for me, because I'm at least twice a day kinda gal. But I'm almost done with it now, I weighed at 87.8 this morning.

The reason I have been quiet is that my mom checked in the hospital this morning. She saw blood in her poo on Friday evening, and she's due for a colonoscopy tomorrow.

So I dealt all this week by hiding it in the back of my head. And the couple of vodkas too. I acted like nothing is wrong. I arranged to do the roots of my hair, got a manicure and pedicure, attended all events of the festival, invited friends to the events to act as if this were nights out and not work, you know...

But then yesterday came and "tomorrow" was to close to act as if I am not really petrified.

The doctor said it can be a number of simple really reasons for this, after all my mother's body has gone through a tremendous amount of stress, but I am really really scared.

I was planning a surprise party for Angelos last week. It's his birthday today, and I had given Sofia the keys to our house, since he'll come to pick me up from therapy tonight and I'd pretend to not feel very well, and asked him to go home for a quiet night, then we'd come home and everyone and the cake would be waiting for him. But it won't happen. I can't party really tonight.

The results of the colonoscopy come right away, unless the need for a biopsy comes. All I wish for is that I will be in the position for a big birthday party on Saturday night, for my love's birthday and for the relief that my mom is fine.

I should have weighed in yesterday really, as my official day is Wednesday. But after seeing the 1.9 kilo gain the other day due to having my period, I thought I should keep away from the scales till I'm almost done.

My husband often says that he will install a cam corder at every room of the house one day. To record my morning routine and cooking, so that he will have something to watch when he is down to ammuse himself and make him laugh. He says I'm funny like this. And I think he means thismainly cos I talk to things. When I am cooking for instance, I gather my incredients all together, and give a lecture to them. Usually it goes like this:

"Now listen peperoncini , you wonderful italian chilli pepper. Zuccinis and eggplants are your freinds. They are your allies. The three of you along with the onions and the garlic - shush garlic, I will come to you soon - have to be nice to each other and to the boss. Yes, today the chicken is the boss. Don't argue with me now, or I will return you back to the fridge and you will feel isolated! So your job is to play nicely with the rest of your team and NOT try to conquer them. You are the taste enhancer here and you must be subtle, yet make your hot point. But you aint allowed to cover all the other flavours up with your strength, ya hear me???"

Or

"Ah its so cold this morning, how am I going to part from you my warm and gorgeous pjs? But I got to weigh in, can you please tell me how much each of you weighs so that I can deduct it at the end? Yes you too slippers and socks and robe, I am so cold, gwan, tell me your weight, I need to know NOW!!!"

I usually amuse myself like this when I am alone. But some times, Angelos will sneak in the house quietly when I am cooking, and he will stay near the kitchen door and listen to my rammblings, or return home in the morning cos he has forgotten something, and will come near th ebath tiptoeing and hear me talk to the pjs and the scales and I will understand he is here by the sound he makes when he is trying to laugh without sound, a sond pretty much like he's choking.

Which was the case about half an hour ago, when I was trying to take my clothes off to weigh in. And was too cold to do so. And I was thinking that I could do it later cos Id had to get off my clothes for the shower. But because I am a tad hysterical, I did not want to weigh in after breakfast, so I had to strip then and get on the scales!

Are you ready for the result?

87.5 kilos. 87.500 grammars. 192,5 lbs!!!

Do you know what that means? Noooo. It doesn't just mean that I lost 800 gr this week. It means that I am just 3 kilos away from a BMI of 29.9. I will no longer be obese in a few weeks!

It also means that I am only 2.5 kilos away from the 85 kilo mark. And you know what this will mean? That my loss will be a great round 45 kilos. I have a Thai girlfriend that is 35 years old, very pettite really at 1.55 m that weights 45 kilos. So this means I will have lost Pat!!!!

I am really excited! I feel I am really back at the lard busting business as dg calls it. Of course I am a little scared too. I never want to go back to the 90's. But it seems this has been what I have been doing llately. Get to 88, then get back to 90. Get to 89 then get back to 91. For months now I been loosing and gaining and loosing the same 2-3 kilos. But the last part of March and April has been good. I have faith that by June I will be in the 70's. Oh my god, I am shaking with excitement at the mere thought of this!!!!

Last summer, I bought 3 shirts that didn't fit in July. By the end of August, 2 of them were barely buttoning, and one, the favourite one actually, a red linen fitted shirt, was buttoning perfectly in the belly and stomach, but not on the boobs. Not because my boobs are big. But because the sleeves didn't fit on my big arms. So the armpits of the shirt (I know shirts don't have armpits really. But you know I mean the point where the sleeves get attached to the rest of the shirt. Now if you can correct my english here I will be indebted) did not actually reached my armpits, causing the problem in buttoning the shirt all the way up.

I am so anxious for warmer weather. Because I am so looking forward to get rid of my winter clothes and get out the summer ones. Just to try these shirts. Then, when it is finally warm and the summer clothes are out, and I get passed the excitement of the shirts fitting (please please please), I will forget all about how good that felt, and I will go on murmuring about being summer and me being fat enough for bathing suits still. But till then, please oh please, make the days warmer!!!!

Now I got to go get ready for work, and another 16 hr day *sigh*

But...I weigh 87.5 kilos, have I told you that?!

I just got back from a TV interview with the ALPHAVILLE. Oh It is always so weird to meet and work with artists I used to worship when I was young. And who have not danced with "Big in Japan" back to the glossy eighties!!!

I have had about an hour to vent and then go to their sound check. Their concert is the first event of our festival :o)

Food has been great, working out has been consisting of running around from 8 am to 2 am the last 3 days with work...lol

I got to go now, but I have posted 2 pics in flickr from the actors' night I was telling you about. Go see if you feel like it :)

Wish me a great concert!!!!

xoxoxox