At Times Like This, You Need Chocolate. Or Pizza.

Ever have those weeks where you want to bury your head in the sand? Literally? Just to see what would happen? Knowing me I'd probably surface with some rare form of mold that eats all your hair. Anyway - I've just had one of those weeks.

Since I'm addicted to lists and firmly believe list posts are easier to read, let me list you my crappy week.

1. I'm addicted to food. I know it, you know it, the world knows it. My taste buds just refuse to listen. I wish I could just numb my tongue for a month and be done with it. remember when people used to wire their jaws shut and drink liquid for x amount of time? Yeah, I'd do that. then I'd probably break all my teeth trying to get to the Halloween candy. Such is life.

I really would do this to lose a few pounds...

2. Saturday morning at 1 am my neighbors were having a drunken idiot fest party across the street. I went to go get Wendy's (refer to item number one for why in god's name I left my house at 1 am for FOOD.) The rejects across the street saw me leave, saw me come back. Someone else (read: not me.) called the police on their loudness. Twice. Then at 3am, one of the drunk diptards walks up to my house, opens my screen door, and tries to open my door. Twice. Without knocking or anything. I thought someone was ready to add a new ventilation system to my forehead by way of the gun - so I creep to the side of the door and watch the jackwad go back to party central. I had never been so scared in my entire life. I run upstairs, wake up my ex-marine husband (just saying that makes me feel better...) and call the cops. Not 5 minutes later they come screeching up my street and start hollering at all the party animals. Hollering. Loudly. Hooray for police brutality. I'm all for it at this point - I wanted one of them to beat someone up. I was pissed. Anyway, party breaks up, I can't do anything about the pseudo break in because I didn't know which moron to point the finger at. Shame. The police and the retards left and I was up till 5 am trying to not have a heart attack from fear.

I felt like this was going to happen and I was going to die. Or be beat to a pulp.

3. Sunday morning, at 6 am , I am taking my brother to the hospital. He has kidney stones. Lots of 'em. I woke up, after about a half hour of sleep (because my husband snores. loudly. In stereo.) and crawl in the passenger's side of my car because frost has frosted my door super shut. After about 20 minutes of thawing we're on our way, and I'm thinking - "I hope I don't do anything stupid, because I'm really tired. My normal superhero-esque reactions are not up to par this evening night morning."  Five minutes later I run over a dead deer in the middle of the highway going 70 mph because I'm trying to get my poor brother to the hospital asap. A big dead deer. In my little 96 Honda Civic. I get to the ER, my engine is smoking, and I have a panic attack while trying to check my brother in and be there for him. My family is all sleeping, I have no one to call and I look like a moron in streaky left over mascara from the night before. To add to the fun and games, I hurt my shoulder and back muscles. Which I had to deal with for 6 hours while the moron doctors decided my brother had kidney stones. Um - to quote a favorite cartoon, "you just earned your - Uh, Der - badge."

ALL OF YOU.

So life is.....

I don't know. My car is in the shop, I'm broke, and I'm afraid of my neighbors. I'm not really complaining, mind you , I'm just in shock. Fortunately I have Xanax and Codene to cope for the week. And I ordered a pizza. Veggie Lovers from Pizza Hut.

Don't judge me.

Slap A Bitch

During all this time that I haven't blogged because I'm lazy for personal reasons, I have learned a few things about myself that I'd like to share.

1. "If there is food, I will eat it."

I hear this in my head throughout the day, with a Field of Dreams whisper - "If you cook it, Flabby will come." Truly. So now I have this weird baseball/Kevin Costner/food connection in my mind that just won't go away. I am now associating food with dead baseball players and corn fields. Lovely.

What I've learned, though, is not to buy snacky food and keep it in the house. Not for the husband, or the kid. They can all eat healthy right along with me - because if it's in the cupboard, I will eat it. Period.


2. Being fat colors every aspect of my life.

 Usually it's the color black. Anyway, I took my son to the movies Sunday for some mommy time. (I'm awesome. I know. That and I really wanted to see Real Steel again.) The whole time we were watching the movies, these horrible, awful , rotten teenage girls kept kicking my seat. I'm pretty sure they were using it for a footrest. It was extremely annoying, but I never said anything. The only, and I mean only reason I said nothing was this: I didn't want to hear her yell "fat bitch" at me. Or say anything that included the word fat in it. That is my singular fear at the moment. Being called fat when I stick up for myself. It plays out in my mind like this:

Me: Excuse me, could you stop kicking my chair please?

Stupid Teenage Girl: Shut up you fat bitch.

Then the scenario gets ugly because I punch her in the face and break her purty teeth. That part is fun to imagine.

You know you want to...

But it's sad I won't say anything because I'm scared of being called fat in public. Like they didn't already notice, because I wore my skinny jeans that day.

Whatever. The point is, I'm tired of being scared to live because of my weight. It's getting old, and the more I sit around at home, the fatter I'm gonna get.

Lessons learned.

Christmas Dress Challenge Weigh In Post

So it's Sunday. For me anyway. And this week I have:

- Eaten right. 

Well, mostly. I had nachos and cheese yesterday at the movies. They were calling my name. But I had a coke zero, instead of sprite - and I didn't add candy to the mix. I also didn't eat anything else for the rest of the day. I don't care if it was healthy or not - I was under my calorie limit of the day. Which makes me happy. 

- Actually exercised. Really, truly exercised. I walked. On purpose. Down pathways and up hills. I feel the awesomesauce.

- Slept. At Night. Like A Baby.

- Cleaned My House. I literally had about 13 loads of laundry to fold. So I did. Fold it, that is.

 I have met my goals. And I have lost weight.

I came into the challenge weighing 308. And I'm down to 303. That under 300 pounds thing is so close I can taste it. Or not taste it, depending on how you look at it. I wonder what under 300 pounds tastes like? Chocolate maybe? Or carrots?

Maybe...chocolate carrots?

The reason my weight loss ticker thingy says 17 pounds lost is because I began this whole thing at 320. I quit for the better part of a year, but have been back on track for a few months now. And I am 17 pounds lighter for all my trouble.

It feels good.

How Many Of You....

1. Log into your blog/email/facebook accounts 35 times a day just to see if you have comments?

(I do. It's sad, pathetic and a little stalker-ish. I'm literally stalking myself. Creepy.)

2. Actually say "LOL" or "WTF" in conversations?

3. Have bought Spanx, loved them, hated them, thrown them away, and promptly ran out and spent 60 dollars on yet another pair?

4. How many of you have done #3 twice in one week?

5. Secretly wish you were a ninja assassin?

6. Eat fudge brownie mix straight out of the bowl?

7. Have had enough mix left to actually make the brownies?

Whoops.

8. Weigh yourself after you go to the bathroom?

 (I mean, hey - 3 ounces of pee is still 3 ounces. I can put it under the

"weight lost" category in my mental tally book.)     

9. Have actually picked all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms?

10. Cry while watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy?

11. Think that walking to the fridge and back counts as exercise?

12. Photoshopped pictures of your face onto someone else's body just to "see" what it would be like to be skinny?

See? I'd be an awesome Tomb Raider.

13. Want to take a walk outside, stand at the door and then go sit on the couch, because - let's face it, whales don't walk?

14. Have a love/hate relationship with America's Next Top Model?

15. Realize that everyone in your family is skinny - Except for you?

If you have said yes to 5 or more of the above - congratulations, you are a Flabby McGee too. 

Just go with it.

Face Your Stuff....

....Or Stuff Your Face.

Saw that on a car this week. I was going grocery shopping (of course) and pulled into my parking space. And there on the little metal plate people put around the license plate...was that little gem.

And I thought how true. I'm either facing my stuff or stuffing my face.

It's just this little mantra that keeps rolling around in my head, every time I want to eat. So I think I've been actually facing my stuff, for once.

I've revamped my eating habits, eating 3 healthy meals a day. I've become a fan of bananas, turkey, and wheat bread. I've also been scouring the Internet for inexpensive recipes. I know that I posted a few posts that were either desperate or sad. And a lot of you gave me excellent responses, which I've been trying to compile and come up with inventive ways to lose weight on a budget. Then I've been using My Fitness Pal, which has an excellent calorie tracker. I've also folded and put away my mountain of laundry, caught up on my dishes, walked, and spent less time on the computer.

So to everyone that that gave me support and advice..thank you, thank you, thank you!

A Brutally Honest Portrait

I have been up all night. I woke up at 10 pm yesterday - just in time to say goodnight to my son.

I sat down to my computer and started playing my video game. My husband was watching some good old Star Trek:Voyager on Netflix. After a few hours of that, he went to bed. So I caught up on some season 7 of Grey's Anatomy while I continue playing my game.

At about 3am, I realize I am hungry. So I fry up an entire can of corn beef hash, and eat the whole thing. With ketchup. Yummy, but I'm sure I just ate 30 gazillion grams of fat, and I'm not going to bother thinking about the sodium. After this "breakfast" I dish myself up a bowl of Cookies N' Cream ice cream.

As I'm eating, I realize that all I've done for the last week is sit here at the computer. I haven't showered in about 5 days, and my head itches. I smell. I brushed my hair yesterday for the first time in about 2 weeks, and only because it was getting so ratty I couldn't get a rubber band around it. I actually brushed my teeth - yesterday morning. At this point they're fuzzy and yellow. I haven't shaved in a month or so. I can't find a bra because I haven't worn one in 10 days.  The couch has an indent where my butt goes, and I think I've actually broken a board or two in there because my fat tush sets lower than the rest of the couch.

This could be my hair. And I'm not even trying.

And I realize there is something seriously wrong with me.

I didn't think I was depressed. Maybe I am. I don't know anymore.

All I know is that I need to care. About me. Because I really, really don't give a damn about myself at the moment. There's no way I can trick myself into thinking I do care about myself, because when I look in the mirror and see greasy hair and yellow teeth - it's obvious.

When did I stop caring? When did I stop feeling like a woman? What the hell happened to my life?

My title warns you that this is a brutally honest picture of what I have become. It's time to really change that. It's noon now, and I'm going to take a shower, shave, brush my teeth (and my hair!) and get off the couch for a while.

Chocolate And Me

All I want is chocolate. It's all I can think about. I'm like.....a chocolate zombie. Instead of "braaaiiinns..." I'm moaning "Chocolaaatttte..."

It's sad.

Even my cupboard contents are out to mock me. Every time I open the doors I see this:

And this:

And finally, this:

It's horrible for me. It makes me think about candy bars. 

Despite the temptation though, I have not had one morsel of yummy, delicious, irresistable...

Oh, what was I saying? that's right, no chocolate. I've been a good girl. I almost broke last night - but I remained strong, and had a fruit grain bar thingy instead. 

Told ya I could do this.

Bloggest Loser Challenge

I've found myself another challenge to join. Last year I did My Long Hot Active Summer Challenge, and pooped out halfway through. The upside was, I actually...lost weight. Who knew? So I've joined this one, simply to keep myself on track and maybe make a few friends. We shall see. Click the button to join if you'd like.




It's kind of scary for me, because I don't have a gym membership, and I can't afford one. I also can't afford healthy food, or workout equipment at home. Here's the thing though - if I really want to do this, I'll do it with out all the fancy stuff. I'm the kind of person that's like - "I'll workout when I get my money/membership/treadmill/sneakers".....fill in the blank. Then I buy the stuff - and don't use it. I once spent 140 dollars on the Six Week Body Makeover. My husband blew a fuse and then I never used it. So - no more excuses. No more "if only's". Time to get off the couch and move. All by myself.

On another note, I'm doing well with my self imposed exile from chocolate. Not a morsel has crossed these lips for a whole 5 days. Five days. I impress even myself. It feels good to have the will power to say no to something. The waking up at 9am....not so much. Still trying to cycle my sleep back around to actually sleeping at night.

To sum up: No chocolate, sleep right, move ass, eat less.

Sound good?

Great.....Now All I Want Is A Candy Bar....

Ok, so I've been doing a lot of blog reading. And the one thing I'm noticing is that people who are trying to lose weight seem to set goals for themselves.

Huh. Goals. What is this - how you say? -  "goals"? Yeah, I don't do that too often. My goals are kind of like.."I want not to be a fatass." and " try not to buy all the cheese in the grocery store". Stuff like that.

Since setting goals seems to be an important weight loss tool, I have decided to try and set a few. Plus, it's September first - so it's a good day to start.

1. I am going to give up chocolate for the month of September. I know it sounds nuts - but I need to teach myself what the word "No" means. (except, in my head it looks more like "NO".) So, no chocolate. And no replacing said chocolate with bagfuls of non-chocolate candy. The point is to try and curb my sweet tooth. Because my sweet tooth makes my butt fat.

There were so many yummy pictures to choose from....

2. Wake up every weekday at 9 am. I know that sounds normal - but you have to understand. I am a housewife, with no job, and only one child - who is about 25 years old in a 10 year old's body. I am homeschooling him this year - so I need some structure. Enter the waking up at 9 am idea.

So, that's it for now. If I can do these 2 things - for just a month, at least - than I can achieve more, later on. I totally suck at sticking to anything. Ever. Plus it will give me something more to blog about.  Here goes.

I'll keep you posted.

Sunshine and Happiness

I think I'm really a plant. I seem to use photosynthesis to survive.


After a terribly long, cold and frozen winter - The sun has finally come out. Literally. Well - the rain has come with it, but it's still warm so that's ok.

I find that the sunnier it is, the more I do. I know that's probably true for most people - but for me it's means the difference between 150 lbs. and 300 lbs. Some days I wish I lived in a land of perpetual summer.

Anyway - to get to the point - I stepped on the scale a few days ago and discovered (against all logic) that I had lost almost 10 pounds.

Craziness. How in the heck? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. But 10 pounds - just from sitting on my tushy, eating Creme Eggs? I didn't realize that was possible. But then I got to thinking and figured out I have been slowly eating less and less. Either I'm watching my 10 month old niece, Rosie - or I'm playing World of Warcraft. Each of those activities require both hands, therefore, less time to eat.

So when I saw that number I decided to bite the bullet and start exercising again too. I mean, heck - if I can lose 10 pounds lounging on the couch - I can lose more if I get up and move. So I've been taking my niece for walks around our little cul-de-sac every day. Four times around the little circle - which I think is a bout a half a mile.

I've also been watching what I eat. Not so much what - but how much. And it seems to be working.

Guess I just wait and watch the scale go down now.

You're Not The Boss Of Me Now

I woke up this morning, thinking about food.

Well, to be fair, I fell asleep last night, thinking about food. As usual. And like I said, I woke up this morning - thinking,
"Oh boy, what's in my fridge...I'm starving." (and no, I'm not really starving. I'm to fat to be starving to death, trust me.) Anyway, I raced downstairs to find me some food and the most amazing thing happened.

I stopped and actually thought about what I was going to eat.

And that, my friends - is a miracle. Not a small one either.

I read a post a few days ago at Waisting Time. One of her readers asked her a question - basically, 'what are your goals?' It was a good question, and to be honest - I don't really have any goals other than "Be skinny, dammit!" But one of her responses was this:

I want to control food instead of food controlling me.

And I thought - Woah. Seriously. Not only does food control me, it whips me and beats me and owns my every action. Really - everything I do is based on food. Like, if I have money and want to go out, my brain automatically starts listing my favorite restaurants and what their menus are. What foods haven't I been able to eat lately and which are my favorite ones. I don't think about movies, or bookstores or even clothes shopping. I think about food first.

Or, if I'm depressed I run to the fridge and see what goodies it may be hiding. And I look forward to Holiday feasts with a fervor that is not completely normal.

It only gets worse. I will go to the kitchen, grab the easiest thing to eat (for example..a bag of candy, chips, cookies...get the picture?) and eat a whole bag/sleeve/carton. Then I look down and see an empty bag/box in my hand - it feels like I'm coming out of a small coma - and I think to myself - "Holy crap. Did I really just eat that??" I don't even remember. It's scary.

And eating just one. Or two. Or five of anything is a joke in my house. That's one of the main dieting tips, right? Eat just a few? HA. If I eat one, it usually means I'm going to eat them all. The whole bag. The whole carton. The whole box. There is absolutely zero amount of self control going on here.

So, is food my boss. Yup. But that's got to change. Fortunately for me, I actually thought about it this morning before I ate anything. So I'm going to try and plan out my eating for the whole day. Maybe tattoo it on my forehead. Or my butt - there's more room there.

Anyway, today I start controlling food. I'm going to fire food as my boss. Or technically, I guess I quit - since you can't fire a boss. Hmm, not sure how that works since I've never been a boss...but I'm the boss now! Of food! And I fire it! Wait. I need some food...

Oh crap. Well, I guess I'm just going to start thinking about what I eat and being more careful. No more food marathons at midnight and no more scarfing before thinking.

So now it's time to go make my breakfast (2 over medium eggs on wheat toast and cottage cheese) and be healthy today. About time too, because I'm starving....
 

On Sleep, The Lack Thereof, and being a Good Girl.

I always have the best ideas for a post.

In the middle of the night.

I'll be half asleep, and pop awake with a gem of a post idea. I will tell myself to remember it, repeat it to myself 15 times, and then promptly forget about it as soon as I fall back asleep. When I wake up in the morning - I'm left with this vague feeling that I did something awesome yesterday, but I just can't quite grasp what it was.

And when I sit down to the keyboard and try to post something - I draw a huge fat blank. Usually I give up and write nothing. (Hence my month - (months?) - long absences)

But, I'm trying to post regularly, and I'm trying to get back on track.

Back on track. Hah. If I could find a way to type out 'snort and chuckle' on the computer, I would.

It's not that I don't try, I really do. I went out a few days ago for a food run, and got myself the Good Girl Subway Sub.

(i.e. Roast chicken on wheat, no cheese, all green veggies, hold the mayo and substitute mustard please.)

And then yesterday, I go out with my sister and manage to scarf 3 Jr. bacons and a large Chili with cheese. Yum! I mean, Bad Flabby McGee, BAD. Not to mention I can't seem to get near a gym. Although - to be fair - I'm sure there's an anti fat chick force field around the whole thing, repelling us chubbies by the dozens.

(I was looking for a picture of a cheeseburger - but they all made me hungry. So I stopped torturing myself.)

Still. I can't give up. I'd like to, but I can't. So I'm going to try again. Right now. I went shopping for all my Good Girl foods and I'm currently starving. I forgot to eat again.

Back Again

So, looking back at my blog - I apparently fell off the face of the earth. I don't know why I do that, just disappear for months on end. I guess my only excuse is lack of inspiration. I always feel like every thing I write should be witty and intelligent, and I don't always feel witty or intelligent. But I digress.

I woke up this morning at 5am, and after snarfing 4 scrambled eggs and 4 pieces of toast, I found a list of successful weight loss blogs on yahoo. I paused for a moment and thought "Holy Crap. I used to have a weight loss blog. Wonder what happened to it? Is it still there, do people still love me?" Lo and behold here I am, with a flash of inspiration to boot. Whoda thunkit.

Where am I at? Well, I'm not at the gym, cuz I'm all Flabby McGee again with a whopping 319 pounds. I make myself sad. But I have decided to stop whining and moaning about it all and suck it up. I may mess up over and over (and over and over) but I'm gonna pick myself back up one more time and work on the whole getting healthy thing.

Well, here I am. Trying. Again. And in typical Flabby fashion, we'll just have to see how this all works out. Resetting the weight counter, and getting off my duff now. See ya later.

Coversations With Myself

Me:  I'm hungry.

Inner Evil Self: Yeah, there's cake in the kitchen you know.

Me: Yes, I'm perfectly aware - you fat idiot pig. Shut up and let me sleep.

Inner Evil Self: It has roses. Big flower roses.

Me: Oh, no really? You think? I'm trying to lose weight here, and all you want to do is eat.  Mainly sugar.

Inner Evil Self: So eat cheese. Cheese is good.

Me: Not helping. My butt itches. And I need to sleep.

Inner Evil Self: You sleep better after you eat, ya know.

Me: Liar. And my butt still itches. So either help me out with that or shut the heck up.

Inner Evil Self: Ha! You can't reach your butt. So deal. We have cheese in the kitchen too.

Me: What is with you? can't you just help me out for once?? That would be nice - or shocking, take your pick.

Inner Evil Self: What fun would that be? OMG - Adam Lambert is on MTV.

Me: Kill me now. Did you just Oh-Em-Gee me?

Inner Evil Self: I'm trying but you won't let me. Big frosting roses, one's pink.

Me: I hate pink.

Inner Evil Self: Then the other one's yellow.

Me: I don't like yellow either, so there.

Inner Evil Self: You know you act like a child when you're hungry?

Me: So I've been told. Adam Lambert wears too much makeup and his music sucks.

Inner Evil Self: So do his videos, but that's not what we were talking about. Cake. You have cake. It even has your name on it.

Me: I hate you.

Inner Evil Self: Oh. No. My. Feelings. Are. So. Hurt.

Me: I'm tired. And I wish this song would end. What in the world happened to MTV?

Inner Evil Self: Talk shows, reality TV and Adam Lambert. CAKE.

Me: Oh yeah. NO. No cake.

Inner Evil Self: At least go lick the frosting off the edge of the plate. It'll be fun, I promise.

Me: You are the devil.

Inner Evil Self: Nah, he's busy  helping Adam Lambert write music.

Me: Huh. I guess. I'd go to sleep but I itch.

Inner Evil Self: Eat Cake.

Me: Fine.

Inner Evil Self: YES!

Me: Just kidding. Gotcha!

Inner Evil Self: You suck.

Me: Now you know how it feels. I'm going to bed.





This is what happens when you're still up at 5am.

Electric Bills and Exercise

I'm so tired I need to prop up my eyelids with toothpicks. Or Q tips, but I don't think my eyelids will stretch that far. I would ingest some caffeine, but that doesn't really work for me. What I will probably do is go play video games all night until it's a proper time to go to sleep.

 Like, midnight. Or 2am. If I make it that far.

I had to pay my electric bill this morning, so I wouldn't get shut off. Technically I had to pay it Friday, so I called the robbers company, and found out that they don't do shutoffs Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Or holidays. Or the day before or the day after a holiday. You think with all I pay them they could afford to send people out everyday. Anyway - I thought, 'hey, let's pay them online this weekend!'.

Dumb Idea. I was going to use my brothers card - because it was his money we were using (we still have none) and too late, I realized you have to attach the whole bank account to the electric account. Not happening. Then I thought we'd pay over the phone. Not open. Jeez.

So I stayed up all night and drove over there and paid it this morning at the crack of dawn. Eight o'clock in the morning to be precise. Life is just dandy.

So, I'm tired and I really should go to the gym. But there's no way - I would fall off of the elliptical so fast you'd need a high speed camera to catch it. I have been doing horrible on my 'diet'. I had 2 peices of frosting covered brownies yesterday. And that's just yesterday. The last few weeks have been a joke. Chips, cheese, meat, food and more food and junk and sugar. Yeah. That kind of eating. So, the plan is to head back to the gym this week - but I gotta do it before my husband goes to work at 3 pm.

We'll see. Wish me luck!

I'm Tired

I'm so tired.

Tired of not eating cake.

So I ate some.

Tired of not eating chocolate.

So I ate some.

Tired of not drinking soda.

So I drank some.

Tired of getting up and going to the gym.

So I didn't go.

Tired of worrying about what I eat.

So I ate everything I could.

And now I'm sick. And tired. Now I'm tired of being lazy. And I'm tired of not focusing, and I'm tired of not having any self control. I'm tired of being a bum. And I'm tired of being fat.

My mother always told me - Change only comes when the pain of staying the same is more then the pain of change. Looks like she was right.

Yeah, I'm tired of that too.

Scales and Weigh-In's and Cake, Oh My!

It's been an interesting week. Feels longer than normal. The kind of week where you have 17 thousand things happen, and it feels like a month instead of a week.

First I had my son's B-day party, which was awesome, but we had cake. I love cake. Then on Monday, my in-laws had us over for our anniversary celebration - and we had 2 cakes, count 'em, 2. One for my son to celebrate his b-day, and a ginormous ice cream cake. I still have said ice cream cake in my freezer, calling my name daily. It's hard to ignore. But then I saw this picture of me and my huge gut - so that's some good motivation to stay away from the evil ice cream cake.

Then my bank messes up. Cost me $120. I don't have 120 to waste on overdraft fees that aren't my fault because I have plenty of money in my savings account. Which was being saved for my family reunion in SC this summer - but now belongs to my crappy, money grubbing, lying, retard bank. Time to switch banks.

So I got 2 blog awards this week. I was like - woah - 2! (2 cakes, 2 awards? Hmm....mebbe I need more cake.) In one week. Very cool. Now I feel super speshul, and like I'm awesome. Which I am. Super speshul. And awesome.

So, thanks to Sylvia at Big Steps 2 Take for this one:

 And to Blue at The Missing Piece for this one:

 I really appreciate it, you two made my day day yesterday - especially after the bank fiasco.

And last, but not least - my weigh in. Now, I had one of those weeks where you feel that there is no way the scale will budge an inch. I felt like no matter how much I exercised, and no matter how little I ate, I would still gain weight. Logic does not apply to a fat person's brain. I think we are so used to seeing that scale stuck in the high numbers, that our brains do not compute when we see those numbers go down. I feel like, somehow, my scale is playing a joke on me - and tomorrow I'll be right back where I started. I hear a lot of stories about how when people lose large amounts of weight, they don't really process that fact for a long time. I never believed them - I've always thought "pfft, when I'm thin, I'll have no trouble knowing that I'm skinny, finally". Well, now I believe those stories. I can't process the fact that I've actually lost weight. I'm in shock.

Yeah, you're seeing correctly - 311. (LOL, I just realized my post last week says 212, instead of 312 - yeah, I wish.) Anyway, 311. Me? really? I've lost 9 pounds total? Why? How is that possible?

I guess the equation of gym + eating better - fatty foods = weight loss, it's not exactly making sense to me. Then again, I never was good at math.

Well, there you have it, my week in a nutshell, my loss of 1.6 pounds, and all the cake I could (but didn't) eat.

On Friendly's And The Food Therein

I went to Friendly's yesterday. 

I love food, I love eating out. I do not love low fat restaurant choices, and I do not like throwing food away, or eating half or portioning. I do not love any part of making good choices while eating out - or in. 

I wanted it all yesterday, A Honey BBQ Chicken Supermelt Sandwich on white bread with bacon. And fries. And a free Happy Ending Friendly's Sundae. With ketchup. And Ranch dressing. I was hungry, and drooling. Then I had a brilliant moment and realized something.

It may look like this:

 But what I'm really ingesting is this:

Now, ew. Could I really scoop Crisco out of a can and eat it by the spoonful? No. But I may as well if I eat out like that every time I go somewhere. 

I keep that up and then my body looks like this:

 And I end up like this:

 So, moral of the story is - don't go to Friendly's. Alright, not really. But learn to make better choices. I ended up having Honey BBQ Chicken Strips - no cheese, no bacon, no bread, no ranch. And a salad. I did eat fries, but only half of them. And I had a sundae - But it was my anniversary. 

 But I ended up feeling like this:

 And I don't want to feel that way anymore.

1 Year And 5 Pounds - But Not In That Order

What a day. A good day.

Yesterday I had my son's 9th birthday party.  I love parties. I love the fun. the planning, the cake. Especially the cake. Interesting development though - I put a average size piece of cake on my plate, along with an average size scoop of ice cream. I got about halfway through and realized I couldn't finish it! Not because I had gorged myself earlier, or that I was full, I couldn't finish it because it was too sweet! All that sugar, bleh. My taste buds have been rearranged and I am so happy about that. I stuck to some diet soda and had wheat pasta with very little sauce for dinner. I was so proud of myself.

Cake is evil.

I joined the Healthy You Challenge a few days back. I think I may have mentioned it. I was browsing through their blog (site?) and was looking at the buttons. You know, the buttons that a lot of people have in their sidebars - from different challenges or organizations. The ones that say "I lost *insert number here* pounds"? I have been so jealous happy for people when I see them. Then I was looking at HYC and found this beauty:


The lovely thing is - I have the right to post that!! I have lost 8 pounds since starting this whole thing, and I am taking that button and putting it on this blog, and I am proud of that. I may have joined HYC after the fact, but only by a margin of about 2 weeks, so I'm claiming the right to post that. Hopefully in a few days that will read 10 pounds gone. I have essentially lost the poundage of a newborn baby. That's kinda cool.

Today is my first year anniversay!! I have been married for exactly one year today - and I am really excited. We're going out tonight - Friendly's (many honeymoon memories there) and then going to see Robin Hood. I am now going to go to Friendly's website and map out what I can eat. I refuse to let eating out destroy everything I have worked for.

So, there's my weekend in a nutshell. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you tomorrow!

The Universe Hates Me

"Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen."

I'm sorry, Ralph Waldo Emerson - but you are full of crap.

I've decided many things in my life - some are realistic, some are not. For example - "I want to do the dishes" (reasonable) and "I want to win the swimsuit competition at the Miss Universe pageant" (not so much). But the biggest, baddest, humdinger of a wish is usually - "I want to lose weight". Boy, if I had a nickel for every time..... you know how it goes.

My universe does not, in any way, shape or form, help me to accomplish anything. You want to know why?

My Future Home.

Let's start with gravity, shall we? Gravity is evil. If I lived on Mars, I'd weigh approximately 120.64 pounds. Such a beautiful number. But here on good ol' earth, I am a heavy and painful 320 pounds. It takes effort to get up in the morning, to make my food, and don't get me started on how hard it is to wash my back or shave my legs. Gross - but bluntly true. When the government finally does something with all the money it spends on space exploration - and we can live on Mars - I will be a happy person. Until then, I will keep fighting the universe.

The universe, ahh..the universe. The universe decided that my home should be ridden with bedbugs. Ew. Icky. Yuck. These little pests found their way to my home through some acquaintances  who decided to pull in a couch off the curb. Said acquaintances live above my in-laws house, and I believe that the nasty buggers found their way to me while I was over there. (how's that for trying to make sure I don't look like a a dirty person?) Either way - we got them here in my house. Then they decided to nest in my bed. So who do they bite? Me. Not my husband, but Me. I had bites covering my arms and legs. Wish I had taken pictures, I could have sold them to Guinness for the most bugbites on a single person. And if anyone's been bitten by bugs - you know they itch. And when you itch, you can't sleep. Not to mention - we had to get rid of our entire bed, and spent too much money on supplies to get rid of the nasty things. So I am sleeping on the couch, and my husband sleeps in a papa san chair. A chair! I'm 500 kinds of achy and tired. The universe is not my friend.

Food. Where do I begin here? I can't escape it, I can't run and hide from it. It's everywhere I look. You ever read magazines like Woman's day, or the ones they sell for around $2? Most of those give you "tips" on how to lose weight, and then - in the same issue - they give you 30 pages of recipes. And are they low - fat, fat - free, low - cal, low anything? Nope. It's all about fat, and butter and salt. And I just love TV. Oh boy - that's my favorite. I can't watch anything - ever. There's commercials for Wendy's, Applebee's, Baskin Robbins, TGI Friday's, I could go on forever. There's one food commercial I can watch - Subway. They motivate me. (5, 5 dollar, 5 dollar footlong..any,any,any...) Food is everywhere. Gas Stations, the mall, the movies, my own home. I have to have it to survive, but why did the universe have to come up with things like, sugar. Or chocolate.

The universe did not make anything plus size. Except caftans. Or beds. That's about it. The movie theater seats squish my hips. The seat belt in the car is a danger zone and I firmly believe it will kill me instead of save me if I ever got into and accident. It slides above my boobs and chokes me half to death. I have to put the chest strap back behind my head - if I can manage to buckle it. Gyms - don't get me started there. All the seats are tiny. The bicycle seat gave me a wedgie, and the equipment does not allow for anyone to have a belly. I have to be a contortionist to fit into some of those machines. Booths at restaurants are - 95% of the time - too small. I always have to check and see if the table slides before I sit down. Amusement parks - forget it. Last time I rode the bumper cars I almost gave myself a hernia.

Ok, this is not my butt. But this is how I feel when I go to the movies.

So, that's how the universe treats me. It's not nice, not friendly, and it's not exactly helping me achieve my goals. Thanks a lot, universe.