02/18/2011
283.8 lbs
That was from like two days ago. Or maybe yesterday.
My ass is flat. And I mean very, very flat. We're talking square pizzabox flat. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Usually about this time (2:00 in the afternoon on a workday) I really start thinking about it. Most of the time I realize that I haven't stood to go to the bathroom, go to the printer or even go to get another cup of coffee. This is ungood. As a matter of fact, it's painful. My ass literally starts aching because I've been sitting on it for so long.
So I got a nudge this morning from one of my real life friends who has been allowed into the JAFG secret world. She reminds me that I've got people that actually do read this blog and that I have been neglecting it. Which has been quite a few times this year. She just had a baby. Well just = six months ago.
We got to chatting about how I had a dry spell on blog topics and that the only thing going on was my frustration on the fact that I wasn't exercising. No one to blame but me. It's been bothering me. I suck. Blah Blah Blah. Well, anyway, she's talking about her baby weight that she refers to as her "dog jowels" (I don't quite get that, but I also didn't ask her to elaborate). Now, mind you, I've seen FB pictures of the girl and she looks lovely. I tell her so. She says she's become a "Master At Camoflauge". MAC said "if I put HALF the effort into actually changing my body instead of hiding it - I'd be in a much better place". Amen, Sistah.
Oh. I should tell you this is all through Messenger which is like online instant texting.
So, being the good friend that I am, I offer to be a "workout inspire-er". She responds at almost the same time with the word ADVERSARY. The gauntlet was thrown down, my friends. The challenge was issued.
We both have access to Gyms and weights. Her weights just happen to come in the form of a mini-human, which I do believe counts for the purpose of competition.MAC and I live about an hour and a half apart so I don't see her all the time. Actually, I see her like 3-4 times a year. We're going to be in Big Southern City in early June and have made that the official "Finish Line". Not that I'll lose all the weight I need to by then, of course, but we're gonna see how much we can do to ourselves (in a positive way) by that time.
Since we don't live close by there's no working out in the same room at the same time which is kinda a bummer. Right now, I have no workout buddy. BB is officially married now and the newlywed version of her is WAAAYYYY different than the fiancee version. That's another story, though. SAG spends all her time either playing tennis or going to sporting events. She's never available (in her defense, her tennis team did make it to the national championships last year). So, I will be working out alone. Starting tonight.
I know my ass is happy about getting some workout and, let's face it, I need to limber up a bit for a certain visit in two weeks (wink, wink). So, I committed to 30 minutes for the elliptical. I also may be meeting a friend out for a beer afterward. I hope they don't cancel each other out.
I am going visit Concierge Gym on Saturday, too. I will even try the weights then. Eee. Gad. I wonder what taking a half a xanax will do to a workout? I have serious anxiety about walking into a gym alone. And since it's been so long, I have to face that anxiety all over again like I've never conquered it before. Well, It's all good. I'll face my fear and will come out the other side feeling damn good. And maybe that won't have anything to do with the xanax.
Oh. If you look up ADVERSARY through Google Search, this is what comes up first:
ad·ver·sar·y/ˈadvərˌserē/Noun
1. One's opponent in a contest, conflict, or dispute.
2. The Devil.
MAC, I'm picking Option 2.
-jafg
Showing posts with label My Fat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Fat. Show all posts
Friday, February 18, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
A Very Stylish Girl
01/14/2011
283.6 lbs
That's for real this time.
I did two amazing things this morning: I weighed myself and I got to work on time! Well, by 5 after 8. That's pretty much on time. Especially for me.
So it's obvious that I'm not really doing anything to lose weight right now. I'm moderately thinking about what I eat, but that's about it. Mostly that includes not ordering anything with sugar. I don't care so much about the fat. Or carbs. Actually,....that might not be so true. I have consumed a fair amount of Jack and Coke. So. I'm minimally thinking about what I eat. That's really about it.
I'm not exercising AT ALL. I have thought about it a few times. I still drive by Concierge Gym twice a day, but I really only notice it when I'm coming home, not when I'm leaving for work. Then I'm just trying to make sure I don't hit anyone in my mad dash to be not so late to work. I've noticed that it's really full at night. I see my favorite elliptical machine through the window and I realize I sort of miss it. I can almost visualize myself on it. I think this month Iam going to might make a goal to bring workout clothes with me to work, change before leaving, and actually STOP at Concierge Gym before making it home. We'll see.
Well, you know we just had a New Year celebration. Me and my skinny friends went to Orlando, FL for a 4-day-getaway. I was up at 5-freakin-30 in the morning on Friday December 31 to make it to our carpool for the trip to the airport.
As girls we spend the day shopping and getting last minute details done like manicures and such before arriving at our hotel to start the two (ok three) hour process of getting ready. Three girls + 1 shower (and toilet) = Tough Times. We all manage to survive and look fabulous before leaving for the evening. There are at least 55 pictures of that moment to prove it.
I walked back IN the hotel room at 5:00 in the morning on Saturday January 1. That's a champion party night, my friends. Good times, good times. I'm glad nights like these are only a few times a year. There's talk of a Mardi Gras trip in the works. None of us have ever done a proper NOLA Mardi Gras. However. I don't know that I'll be fully recovered from NYE by then.
As any young lady would do, I shopped for my trip. This is in addition to all the underwears. I don't have many options for fashion (decent fashion-emphasis on decent) being Just Another Fat Girl. I shop quite a bit from Lane Bryant. That's like 90% of my closet. I score some good tops occasionally from Kohl's and Stein Mart. Anyway, the point I want to make here is that I did some shopping for my trip. I went to The Mall (I loathe Mall Shopping) for a mad dash on Thursday. I needed an outfit or three for the evenings we'd be on the town.
Apparently, LB is now carrying DKNY clothing. It's overpriced, but I got some jeans on sale! Suh-Weet. And they look freakin hot on. I should tell you, if you consider shopping for these, the Soho dark wash are the way to go. At least on me. They have some that are a lighter wash--which are true "jeans" to me--and they weren't flattering in the slightest. I've got a funny shape (remember The Jiggle in the Middle?) so it might just be me.
I also got some really, really cute tops. The one I got for NYE was a tank-tunic (I swear is looks better than it sounds) which required something for the arms. Well, I tried a few long sleeve button downs which just did not work. I was getting desperate. I was going with the gun metal grey tank with the cute bows on the neck no matter what. Well, I do the only thing left for me to do, I ask the clerk for a Shrug. Lord, help me.
I've avoided these basically since I even knew what a Shrug was. We're talking about an article of clothing that's named after poor posture. On top of that, they fall just below the boob which is just above the belly. This can't be flattering. Plus, I just think they're ugly. For the sake of the outfit, I do it.
Holy. Shit. It works beautifully with the top! And I look FABULOUS in the outfit. Right down to the lushious shoes I wore that night. And Bohhh-Nusssss, I have to buy it in a smaller size for it to fit right. The fashion fairies were following me that day! I love this little thing so much, I've incorporated it into a few other outfits. Turns out a shrug is quite diverse.
Aside from looking Smokin' all Holiday weekend, I had another positive. I haven't changed in sizes. I even bought two pair of new work pants while in Tourist-Town (YIKES is it ever). I'm so tired of my baggy slacks. Which, I should add, really aren't because of a lot of weight loss as it was from a weight gain last year that was corrected by weight loss. I've managed to keep about 10 lbs of my 25 lbs off.
Anyway. First day I wore them to work, I get asked like 5 times...no lie...[JAFG], you look like you've lost weight! or How much weight have you lost, [JAFG]? To which I have to reply, I haven't lost any, I just bought some pants that fit! You laugh, but I'm not joking. You'd be amazed how flattering clothes are when they fit...regardless of what size they are!
So, geting back to the outlet shopping purchase of these two pairs of paints. I pick up a pair of black Houston's (that's the cut/style) and try them on. Fit like a glove. Completely pass the sit-down test with flying colors. I decide that they're a steal at $30 a pop and fit so great, I run back over and pick up the same style in grey. Then, I get on a plane, manage to get my three bags (none are small) up The Stairs in ONE trip, fall down dead/take one more vaca day from work, and unpack like 4 days later.
I pulled out the gray pair and decide to wear them (with a cute purple top and that new shrug). I've worn the black pair already and got SO many responses [see a couple of paragraphs above] I figure it'll be even better since I've never worn gray slacks here before. O.M.G.
The bastards are so snug in the waist they're almost too small! These are the EXACT same pair of pants!!! I can wear them (and currently am at the moment) but I safetypin them instead of buttoning to make it more comfortable. Everywhere else in these pants are fine. The legs. The ass. The length. Everything except the waist. I think that the factory in Bangladesh where they were made (not really kidding here) put the clasps a farther apart on this pair than the other. Explains why they were at an Outlet.
Remember those fashion fairies that were following me that day I got the shrug? They must have sensed my doubt. Felt my fear. I think that day has come back to bite me.
So....Sorry, Shrug. I didn't mean to be a hater.
-jafg
283.6 lbs
That's for real this time.
I did two amazing things this morning: I weighed myself and I got to work on time! Well, by 5 after 8. That's pretty much on time. Especially for me.
So it's obvious that I'm not really doing anything to lose weight right now. I'm moderately thinking about what I eat, but that's about it. Mostly that includes not ordering anything with sugar. I don't care so much about the fat. Or carbs. Actually,....that might not be so true. I have consumed a fair amount of Jack and Coke. So. I'm minimally thinking about what I eat. That's really about it.
I'm not exercising AT ALL. I have thought about it a few times. I still drive by Concierge Gym twice a day, but I really only notice it when I'm coming home, not when I'm leaving for work. Then I'm just trying to make sure I don't hit anyone in my mad dash to be not so late to work. I've noticed that it's really full at night. I see my favorite elliptical machine through the window and I realize I sort of miss it. I can almost visualize myself on it. I think this month I
Well, you know we just had a New Year celebration. Me and my skinny friends went to Orlando, FL for a 4-day-getaway. I was up at 5-freakin-30 in the morning on Friday December 31 to make it to our carpool for the trip to the airport.
As girls we spend the day shopping and getting last minute details done like manicures and such before arriving at our hotel to start the two (ok three) hour process of getting ready. Three girls + 1 shower (and toilet) = Tough Times. We all manage to survive and look fabulous before leaving for the evening. There are at least 55 pictures of that moment to prove it.
I walked back IN the hotel room at 5:00 in the morning on Saturday January 1. That's a champion party night, my friends. Good times, good times. I'm glad nights like these are only a few times a year. There's talk of a Mardi Gras trip in the works. None of us have ever done a proper NOLA Mardi Gras. However. I don't know that I'll be fully recovered from NYE by then.
As any young lady would do, I shopped for my trip. This is in addition to all the underwears. I don't have many options for fashion (decent fashion-emphasis on decent) being Just Another Fat Girl. I shop quite a bit from Lane Bryant. That's like 90% of my closet. I score some good tops occasionally from Kohl's and Stein Mart. Anyway, the point I want to make here is that I did some shopping for my trip. I went to The Mall (I loathe Mall Shopping) for a mad dash on Thursday. I needed an outfit or three for the evenings we'd be on the town.
Apparently, LB is now carrying DKNY clothing. It's overpriced, but I got some jeans on sale! Suh-Weet. And they look freakin hot on. I should tell you, if you consider shopping for these, the Soho dark wash are the way to go. At least on me. They have some that are a lighter wash--which are true "jeans" to me--and they weren't flattering in the slightest. I've got a funny shape (remember The Jiggle in the Middle?) so it might just be me.
I also got some really, really cute tops. The one I got for NYE was a tank-tunic (I swear is looks better than it sounds) which required something for the arms. Well, I tried a few long sleeve button downs which just did not work. I was getting desperate. I was going with the gun metal grey tank with the cute bows on the neck no matter what. Well, I do the only thing left for me to do, I ask the clerk for a Shrug. Lord, help me.
I've avoided these basically since I even knew what a Shrug was. We're talking about an article of clothing that's named after poor posture. On top of that, they fall just below the boob which is just above the belly. This can't be flattering. Plus, I just think they're ugly. For the sake of the outfit, I do it.
Holy. Shit. It works beautifully with the top! And I look FABULOUS in the outfit. Right down to the lushious shoes I wore that night. And Bohhh-Nusssss, I have to buy it in a smaller size for it to fit right. The fashion fairies were following me that day! I love this little thing so much, I've incorporated it into a few other outfits. Turns out a shrug is quite diverse.
Aside from looking Smokin' all Holiday weekend, I had another positive. I haven't changed in sizes. I even bought two pair of new work pants while in Tourist-Town (YIKES is it ever). I'm so tired of my baggy slacks. Which, I should add, really aren't because of a lot of weight loss as it was from a weight gain last year that was corrected by weight loss. I've managed to keep about 10 lbs of my 25 lbs off.
Anyway. First day I wore them to work, I get asked like 5 times...no lie...[JAFG], you look like you've lost weight! or How much weight have you lost, [JAFG]? To which I have to reply, I haven't lost any, I just bought some pants that fit! You laugh, but I'm not joking. You'd be amazed how flattering clothes are when they fit...regardless of what size they are!
So, geting back to the outlet shopping purchase of these two pairs of paints. I pick up a pair of black Houston's (that's the cut/style) and try them on. Fit like a glove. Completely pass the sit-down test with flying colors. I decide that they're a steal at $30 a pop and fit so great, I run back over and pick up the same style in grey. Then, I get on a plane, manage to get my three bags (none are small) up The Stairs in ONE trip, fall down dead/take one more vaca day from work, and unpack like 4 days later.
I pulled out the gray pair and decide to wear them (with a cute purple top and that new shrug). I've worn the black pair already and got SO many responses [see a couple of paragraphs above] I figure it'll be even better since I've never worn gray slacks here before. O.M.G.
The bastards are so snug in the waist they're almost too small! These are the EXACT same pair of pants!!! I can wear them (and currently am at the moment) but I safetypin them instead of buttoning to make it more comfortable. Everywhere else in these pants are fine. The legs. The ass. The length. Everything except the waist. I think that the factory in Bangladesh where they were made (not really kidding here) put the clasps a farther apart on this pair than the other. Explains why they were at an Outlet.
Remember those fashion fairies that were following me that day I got the shrug? They must have sensed my doubt. Felt my fear. I think that day has come back to bite me.
So....Sorry, Shrug. I didn't mean to be a hater.
-jafg
Monday, December 20, 2010
Oh. Fudge.
12/20/2010
281.4 lbs
I didn't want to weigh this morning, but I did it anyway. For the sake of the Blog.
Thursday night I made a chicken casserole. I had it at a Christmas dinner earlier this month and decided to make it for dinner myself. It's pretty basic. Chicken, campbell's soup, sour cream, and crushed crackers on top. And a stick of butter. Yeah, a whole stick. Well, I substituted panko bread crumbs for the crackers cause I didn't have any Ritz on hand. I looked at the "1 stick of butter" several times trying to figure out what to do about it. I then decided to use less-than-a-whole-but-more-than-a-half-a-stick of butter. I melted it, poured it on and baked the dish in the oven. Two hours later, after eating said casserole, I was miserable to say the least. I stayed home on Friday with a still upset tummy.
This also leads to the feeling of guilt (which I've had more than a few times lately) about my eating habits. I equate it to quitting smoking. When I fail to resist the urge to smoke, I feel really bad about it later--and sometimes while I'm doing it--because it's bad for me. There are no redeeming qualities. None. Not one thing about smoking a cigarette is good. But, I do enjoy it. Love it, even, when the circumstances are right. Granted, the enjoyment is fewer and farther between times and I really don't like the idea of smoking stone cold sober (stress is still a HUGE trigger though) but the fact remains, I enjoy a good smoke like I enjoy a good glass of wine. Or Jack and Coke.
My point with all this is unhealthy eating (like NEARLY a stick of butter in a recipe) is so totally ungood. No redeeming qualities. Nothing good can come from it. Thus the Friday ick-fest. This also takes it's toll mentally. I'm left alone and to my own devices to obsess over what I've done and whatnot. Anyway, it can leave a person in a rather insecure state of mind.
This all leads up to a party Saturday night. SAG (that's Skinny Athletic Girl just as a reminder) and I are going to this shindig together. We decide that if it's a bust, we'll head out on the town. No worries. Well, it's a bizzare group of people and tons of free good booze. So, we stay. Bonus, there's a boy here that I find mentally stimulating. He's very much an adult and easy to converse with and makes a hell of a drink. Laid back, educated, funny, basically, someone either to spend a "safer" fun-filled night with (don't judge!) or consider expanding to a more regular friend thing and possibly connect on facebook. That's what you do these days, btw. You friend people. You don't exchange numbers. It's hard to get used to.
As you may already know, I'm certainly not a wall flower. I'm a confident 30something woman. My size very rarely is a thought in my mind when I'm out on a town and meeting people. Never has been. (Online dating is a whole other topic all together and one we'll discuss at a different time). Remember, though, I'm still fighting a few fresh food demons here.
So, I'm talking with Mr. Potential all night, floating back and forth among the guests who aren't necessarily people that I'd be around regularly but still having a good time. Yes, I may be a bit of a snob, but seriously, who isn't? As the night progresses, things get weird. People are drinking more and well, I realize that the folks I do know are dwindling. SAG has gone to a show and I decided to stay (let's face it, because of Mr. Potential) and continue with the merriment. Before I know it, the hostess is making out with another chick and a male gay couple inform me they like taking women to bed.
W. T. F. I should leave, but for whatever lack-of-judgement reason I do not.
Let me state here that whatever someone's preferences are or are not when it comes to bedroom, does not bother me. Truly. However, I was not prepared for where this party was heading. There's no judgement here, but it was a freakin "Christmas Party"! None of the Christmas parties I've ever attended have ended up like this.
I decide to go outside, smoke a cigarette with Mr. Potential (I've been drinking) and down a shot of tequilla (I've been drinking). Tequilla is never a good thing. I still don't know how I got the shot in the first place. Then, a 6-foot Amazonian 23-year-old comes outside and starts talking about ulcers and migranes. I have a tendancy to give free advice even in my most sober of states. This night was not one of those states. I try to coherently tell her she's way to young to have migranes and ulcers and she tells me it's because she had gastric bypass surgery at 17. She says this like three times before it hits me. "17?!" I say, (again, standing next to Mr. Potential) "17! she says and then procedes with this statement: "I can tell that you're overweight...".
She said some other things after that, but I don't recall actually hearing the words.
Let me let you know how this went down in my head. Have you seen "The Christmas Story"? Remember the scene with the flat tire and Ralphie gets to be a big boy and help his dad change it? And he somehow drops all the lugnuts and also drops the f-bomb "Oh Fudge" line? Well, that slo-mo-drawn-out-hyper-pronounced speaking is how it sounded in my head when I hear the "you're overwieght" part from 23YO Glamazon Chick. To say awkward is an understatement. I'm maintaining my composure, actually trying to sustain the conversation like it's not a big deal, and about 1 minute later, Mr. Potential wanders back inside and I drink more. Like any sensible girl would. Oy. Vey.
I am now so far out of my comfort zone. Straight people are gay. Gay people are straight. And I've been pronounced "overweight" by a 23YO Glamazon in front of Mr. Potential. Bye Bye Healthy Ego. I'm reeling inside. My emotional pshyche is in a tailspin. My head may even be spinning a little from the whole adult beverages thing, as well. And then, the tequilla shot kicks in. Needless to say, tequilla jafg isn't a pretty jafg. She's mean. And now that she feels exposed/rejected, she's on a warpath.
Here's the deal, when you're drunk you make an ass out of yourself. Sometimes, it's remembered as the life of the party, and other times it's remembered as "that crazy chick last night". It's going to end one way or the other. Trust me, this comes from years of experience. I usually stay on the side of life of the party. I'm proficient enough in my 30something years to know where the line is between the two. Well. Saturday night, I crossed it.
I can't really bare re-living the humiliation of the rest of the evening which lasted about 20 more minutes. There were some inappropriate comments I make to The Man Formerly Known as Mr. Potential which led to overheard inappropriate comments and then I left. What the FUDGE was I thinking? I wasn't. I was hurt, embarrassed and wanting to pick a fight. The last part can be partially blamed on the environment and on the tequilla. But, Holy Crazy Parties, I was so not prepared for that evening.
Look, I have tough skin and have dealt with emotional blows enough that I can somewhat quickly recover; or successfully compartmentalize, anyway. Humiliation, either self inflicted or from external sources, isn't easy to admit. I'm trying to find something funny about all this, but really, right now, I can't. I'm a grown-up. I've put my "big girl panties" on so to speak [which really takes on a whole new meaning in this context] and moved forward and won't be attending any more events at that house again. But I'm still licking my wounds.
Thanks for listening. I can't say that I really feel better, but at least I got a blog post out of it.
Also, Mr. Potenial will forevermore be referred to as Mr. Douche.
-jafg
281.4 lbs
I didn't want to weigh this morning, but I did it anyway. For the sake of the Blog.
Thursday night I made a chicken casserole. I had it at a Christmas dinner earlier this month and decided to make it for dinner myself. It's pretty basic. Chicken, campbell's soup, sour cream, and crushed crackers on top. And a stick of butter. Yeah, a whole stick. Well, I substituted panko bread crumbs for the crackers cause I didn't have any Ritz on hand. I looked at the "1 stick of butter" several times trying to figure out what to do about it. I then decided to use less-than-a-whole-but-more-than-a-half-a-stick of butter. I melted it, poured it on and baked the dish in the oven. Two hours later, after eating said casserole, I was miserable to say the least. I stayed home on Friday with a still upset tummy.
This also leads to the feeling of guilt (which I've had more than a few times lately) about my eating habits. I equate it to quitting smoking. When I fail to resist the urge to smoke, I feel really bad about it later--and sometimes while I'm doing it--because it's bad for me. There are no redeeming qualities. None. Not one thing about smoking a cigarette is good. But, I do enjoy it. Love it, even, when the circumstances are right. Granted, the enjoyment is fewer and farther between times and I really don't like the idea of smoking stone cold sober (stress is still a HUGE trigger though) but the fact remains, I enjoy a good smoke like I enjoy a good glass of wine. Or Jack and Coke.
My point with all this is unhealthy eating (like NEARLY a stick of butter in a recipe) is so totally ungood. No redeeming qualities. Nothing good can come from it. Thus the Friday ick-fest. This also takes it's toll mentally. I'm left alone and to my own devices to obsess over what I've done and whatnot. Anyway, it can leave a person in a rather insecure state of mind.
This all leads up to a party Saturday night. SAG (that's Skinny Athletic Girl just as a reminder) and I are going to this shindig together. We decide that if it's a bust, we'll head out on the town. No worries. Well, it's a bizzare group of people and tons of free good booze. So, we stay. Bonus, there's a boy here that I find mentally stimulating. He's very much an adult and easy to converse with and makes a hell of a drink. Laid back, educated, funny, basically, someone either to spend a "safer" fun-filled night with (don't judge!) or consider expanding to a more regular friend thing and possibly connect on facebook. That's what you do these days, btw. You friend people. You don't exchange numbers. It's hard to get used to.
As you may already know, I'm certainly not a wall flower. I'm a confident 30something woman. My size very rarely is a thought in my mind when I'm out on a town and meeting people. Never has been. (Online dating is a whole other topic all together and one we'll discuss at a different time). Remember, though, I'm still fighting a few fresh food demons here.
So, I'm talking with Mr. Potential all night, floating back and forth among the guests who aren't necessarily people that I'd be around regularly but still having a good time. Yes, I may be a bit of a snob, but seriously, who isn't? As the night progresses, things get weird. People are drinking more and well, I realize that the folks I do know are dwindling. SAG has gone to a show and I decided to stay (let's face it, because of Mr. Potential) and continue with the merriment. Before I know it, the hostess is making out with another chick and a male gay couple inform me they like taking women to bed.
W. T. F. I should leave, but for whatever lack-of-judgement reason I do not.
Let me state here that whatever someone's preferences are or are not when it comes to bedroom, does not bother me. Truly. However, I was not prepared for where this party was heading. There's no judgement here, but it was a freakin "Christmas Party"! None of the Christmas parties I've ever attended have ended up like this.
I decide to go outside, smoke a cigarette with Mr. Potential (I've been drinking) and down a shot of tequilla (I've been drinking). Tequilla is never a good thing. I still don't know how I got the shot in the first place. Then, a 6-foot Amazonian 23-year-old comes outside and starts talking about ulcers and migranes. I have a tendancy to give free advice even in my most sober of states. This night was not one of those states. I try to coherently tell her she's way to young to have migranes and ulcers and she tells me it's because she had gastric bypass surgery at 17. She says this like three times before it hits me. "17?!" I say, (again, standing next to Mr. Potential) "17! she says and then procedes with this statement: "I can tell that you're overweight...".
She said some other things after that, but I don't recall actually hearing the words.
Let me let you know how this went down in my head. Have you seen "The Christmas Story"? Remember the scene with the flat tire and Ralphie gets to be a big boy and help his dad change it? And he somehow drops all the lugnuts and also drops the f-bomb "Oh Fudge" line? Well, that slo-mo-drawn-out-hyper-pronounced speaking is how it sounded in my head when I hear the "you're overwieght" part from 23YO Glamazon Chick. To say awkward is an understatement. I'm maintaining my composure, actually trying to sustain the conversation like it's not a big deal, and about 1 minute later, Mr. Potential wanders back inside and I drink more. Like any sensible girl would. Oy. Vey.
I am now so far out of my comfort zone. Straight people are gay. Gay people are straight. And I've been pronounced "overweight" by a 23YO Glamazon in front of Mr. Potential. Bye Bye Healthy Ego. I'm reeling inside. My emotional pshyche is in a tailspin. My head may even be spinning a little from the whole adult beverages thing, as well. And then, the tequilla shot kicks in. Needless to say, tequilla jafg isn't a pretty jafg. She's mean. And now that she feels exposed/rejected, she's on a warpath.
Here's the deal, when you're drunk you make an ass out of yourself. Sometimes, it's remembered as the life of the party, and other times it's remembered as "that crazy chick last night". It's going to end one way or the other. Trust me, this comes from years of experience. I usually stay on the side of life of the party. I'm proficient enough in my 30something years to know where the line is between the two. Well. Saturday night, I crossed it.
I can't really bare re-living the humiliation of the rest of the evening which lasted about 20 more minutes. There were some inappropriate comments I make to The Man Formerly Known as Mr. Potential which led to overheard inappropriate comments and then I left. What the FUDGE was I thinking? I wasn't. I was hurt, embarrassed and wanting to pick a fight. The last part can be partially blamed on the environment and on the tequilla. But, Holy Crazy Parties, I was so not prepared for that evening.
Look, I have tough skin and have dealt with emotional blows enough that I can somewhat quickly recover; or successfully compartmentalize, anyway. Humiliation, either self inflicted or from external sources, isn't easy to admit. I'm trying to find something funny about all this, but really, right now, I can't. I'm a grown-up. I've put my "big girl panties" on so to speak [which really takes on a whole new meaning in this context] and moved forward and won't be attending any more events at that house again. But I'm still licking my wounds.
Thanks for listening. I can't say that I really feel better, but at least I got a blog post out of it.
Also, Mr. Potenial will forevermore be referred to as Mr. Douche.
-jafg
Friday, August 13, 2010
Failure Is Not An Option Except in Fashion
08/13/10
275.5 lbs
I had that coming. Without regaling you with all the gory details, I consumed about 2400 calories yesterday and had no extracurricular activities. Half of those were after 8:00pm. Shame on me.
Happy Friday The 13th, Y'all! Let the good times roll! The bachelorette party is this weekend. It kicks off tomorrow at 10:00am when we hit the road and goes until we come home Sunday afternoon. I may be a little concerned. SAG and I went out and bought party favors for the evening. Cheesey little things that will totally make us all the cliche of the evening. It is going to be SO much fun! I even bought some new clothes.
I went to three stores last night: Avenue, Steinmart and Kohl's. I struck out at Avenue. More times than not, I do. But, they've got cheap big-girl clothes and when they work, they really work. I tried a lot of clothes on and this is the first time I've done that since my 20 lb drop. I hit my closet up and have a few new things that work great, but I haven't gone shopping. This was a pleasant surprise. I can almost fit comfortably in 22/24 clothes. I was pushing a 28. Twenty. Eight. Sheesh.
I can get the clothes on, but they are still snug enough that they don't pass the sit-down test. When I try a top I always have to sit down. If it looks good when I'm sitting (refering to the jiggle in the middle) then the top is a keeper. If it doesn't and I'm not going to be standing all night, well, I don't buy it. Same goes with pants.
Anyway. I wanted to tell you all that I even tried on a dress. I haven't worn a dress since I was forced to wear one as MOH for BFF's wedding in 2005. That's also the lowest I can remember my weight in a long time being 265 lbs. And since it was a Bridesmaid dress, I don't know that it counts. Well, I really want to wear a dress for BB and Her Beau's wedding in early October. So I figured I better try one on and see what it looks like. It wasn't for the wedding, it was just for casual wear. It was like a tanktop with wide straps at the top. Just below the bust line it had a large elastic-gathered band (same material, just all gathered and elasticized) and then the material fell to just below my knee. It was a 22/24. A bit snug really. While everything did work, I needed a size larger for the elastic. The way it fell made me look 20 months pregnant. Ungood. I wasn't discouraged because I actually got a 22/24 on my body. Anyway, after an hour I walked out of Avenue empty-handed and headed to Steinmart.
Steinmart was so much more productive and was less time. I was also more willing to pick up smaller sized clothings this trip. It's usually hard to find anything there because they only go to 24 or 3x. I've gotten 3x tops but never found anything else of interest or that would work. Well...this time I found several tops and even a dress that had great wedding potential. It was a 24, but I figured if it worked but was just a little snug, I'd still get it anyway. I went to the dressing room with all my found treasures--we're talking a serious armful here--and the freakin place was under construction and therefore not available. Damnit. So, I reviewed everything I had and kept the dress and two tops. I'd try everyting on at home and take back what didn't work. One of the two tops is a sure thing, the other is going to the alterations today to see if they can do a quick change on it and the dress is a no go. Simply put, I didn't fill it out where I should and did where I shouldn't. Bygones.
Kohl's was good too. I found a shirt that flattered my bustline like nothing ever has before. It is made to fall perfectly in the back and front while it is a plunging neckline and hugs The Girls. I felt sexy in this top. The only thing is it doesn't pass the sit-down test. It will, but I have to fidgit around quite a bit to make it happen. Plus I've decided to wear a pair of black capris which are slightly too tight in the waist (will help prevent overeating and they look very flattering when I stand) so the combination may be too much. I bought it anyway. I want to wear this top SO bad this weekend. I just don't want to be one of those fat girls who wears skin-tight clothes and has rolls hanging out everywhere. You know which ones I'm talking about. I mean, I am all about loving yourself and being comfortable in your own skin, but there is such a thing as fashion sense. Come on, already! Look in a mirror and get a clue.
If I decide that the combination is a no-go, well, I can take solice in the fact that I will be able to wear it in the very near future. Very near. Like on my trip to Chicago in October. Woohoo!
As I look back over the past two weeks I realize a lot of what I've been reading and even in my own experience is about not meeting challenges either set forth by ourselves or others have given us. Failing. I've been saying there is no such thing as Failing, it's just modified planning.
After my little rant about fat girls and too-tight clothes...I stand corrected.
-jafg
275.5 lbs
I had that coming. Without regaling you with all the gory details, I consumed about 2400 calories yesterday and had no extracurricular activities. Half of those were after 8:00pm. Shame on me.
Happy Friday The 13th, Y'all! Let the good times roll! The bachelorette party is this weekend. It kicks off tomorrow at 10:00am when we hit the road and goes until we come home Sunday afternoon. I may be a little concerned. SAG and I went out and bought party favors for the evening. Cheesey little things that will totally make us all the cliche of the evening. It is going to be SO much fun! I even bought some new clothes.
I went to three stores last night: Avenue, Steinmart and Kohl's. I struck out at Avenue. More times than not, I do. But, they've got cheap big-girl clothes and when they work, they really work. I tried a lot of clothes on and this is the first time I've done that since my 20 lb drop. I hit my closet up and have a few new things that work great, but I haven't gone shopping. This was a pleasant surprise. I can almost fit comfortably in 22/24 clothes. I was pushing a 28. Twenty. Eight. Sheesh.
I can get the clothes on, but they are still snug enough that they don't pass the sit-down test. When I try a top I always have to sit down. If it looks good when I'm sitting (refering to the jiggle in the middle) then the top is a keeper. If it doesn't and I'm not going to be standing all night, well, I don't buy it. Same goes with pants.
Anyway. I wanted to tell you all that I even tried on a dress. I haven't worn a dress since I was forced to wear one as MOH for BFF's wedding in 2005. That's also the lowest I can remember my weight in a long time being 265 lbs. And since it was a Bridesmaid dress, I don't know that it counts. Well, I really want to wear a dress for BB and Her Beau's wedding in early October. So I figured I better try one on and see what it looks like. It wasn't for the wedding, it was just for casual wear. It was like a tanktop with wide straps at the top. Just below the bust line it had a large elastic-gathered band (same material, just all gathered and elasticized) and then the material fell to just below my knee. It was a 22/24. A bit snug really. While everything did work, I needed a size larger for the elastic. The way it fell made me look 20 months pregnant. Ungood. I wasn't discouraged because I actually got a 22/24 on my body. Anyway, after an hour I walked out of Avenue empty-handed and headed to Steinmart.
Steinmart was so much more productive and was less time. I was also more willing to pick up smaller sized clothings this trip. It's usually hard to find anything there because they only go to 24 or 3x. I've gotten 3x tops but never found anything else of interest or that would work. Well...this time I found several tops and even a dress that had great wedding potential. It was a 24, but I figured if it worked but was just a little snug, I'd still get it anyway. I went to the dressing room with all my found treasures--we're talking a serious armful here--and the freakin place was under construction and therefore not available. Damnit. So, I reviewed everything I had and kept the dress and two tops. I'd try everyting on at home and take back what didn't work. One of the two tops is a sure thing, the other is going to the alterations today to see if they can do a quick change on it and the dress is a no go. Simply put, I didn't fill it out where I should and did where I shouldn't. Bygones.
Kohl's was good too. I found a shirt that flattered my bustline like nothing ever has before. It is made to fall perfectly in the back and front while it is a plunging neckline and hugs The Girls. I felt sexy in this top. The only thing is it doesn't pass the sit-down test. It will, but I have to fidgit around quite a bit to make it happen. Plus I've decided to wear a pair of black capris which are slightly too tight in the waist (will help prevent overeating and they look very flattering when I stand) so the combination may be too much. I bought it anyway. I want to wear this top SO bad this weekend. I just don't want to be one of those fat girls who wears skin-tight clothes and has rolls hanging out everywhere. You know which ones I'm talking about. I mean, I am all about loving yourself and being comfortable in your own skin, but there is such a thing as fashion sense. Come on, already! Look in a mirror and get a clue.
If I decide that the combination is a no-go, well, I can take solice in the fact that I will be able to wear it in the very near future. Very near. Like on my trip to Chicago in October. Woohoo!
As I look back over the past two weeks I realize a lot of what I've been reading and even in my own experience is about not meeting challenges either set forth by ourselves or others have given us. Failing. I've been saying there is no such thing as Failing, it's just modified planning.
After my little rant about fat girls and too-tight clothes...I stand corrected.
-jafg
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Cardio Class: Code For Coronary
08/04/10
280.0 lbs
At least it's moving in the right direction again.
So get this. I'm working on day three of a personal 7 day challenge that I haven't really told anyone about. I'm doing my own form of my own boot camp. I've got my VWBs which are helping me stay motivated. "What's this challenge?" I hear you ask. Well, I am making myself do some form of exercise every day for 7 days. I am trying to capture at least 30 minutes dedicated to movement solely for the sake of getting some form of physical activity and calorie burn. I'm calling it my "It's a whopping 30 minutes of your life" challenge. Actually, I stole that title from Kimert. Shetexted wexted that to me as motivation on Monday. I love it.
I woke up Monday and today and did crunches. Twenty each time. I did bicycle things which really is just as hard for me as crunches. Maybe harder because I only have the stamina to do 5 sets. Monday night I did 20 minutes on the elliptical. Last night I did 40-45 minutes of a seriously intense Cardio workout. Angela Pea did her C25K power walking training (hey, I just realized I did that, too, in my class!). Wetexted wexted a bit; me telling her I'm dying, her telling me I'm not. Stuff like that. It really is great having someone out there you know is rooting for you at that very minute. My very own jafg cheerleader. And, in turn, I'm cheering for my VWBs, too!
This Cardio class is worse than Hip Hop Hell class. Seriously. It's full blown exercising. This is the first time I've done this since, well, ever. Or at least since elementary school.
I'm talking sprinting, running, jogging, skipping. All things, by the way, I did not do. I faithfully walked at the fastest speed I could without tripping over my feet. Additionally, we had to do jumping jacks. If I do jumping jacks, like real ones, I'd throw my back out because of my bouncing belly. Yeah. I'm not kidding. But, I did a psuedo jump of sorts and kept my arms and legs moving. We did front kicks. We did back kicks. We did side kicks. My hip joints are sore today. And so are my upper thighs. It kinda hurts to stand up from a sitting position. But I'm not complaining.
I wanted to throw in the towel no less than tree times. Well, on the third time I actually did leave. But I'll get to that. The instructor came over personally to talk to me "off mic" twice to make sure I was "doing okay". That's never happened before. When we took our pulse count (mine was 28 and a 1/2) she looked right at me to say "It shouldn't be over 30! If it's over 30, be sure to keep those arms below your heart!" I don't know if anyone else noticed where she was looking, but I did. At one point, in between the the second time I almost left and the time I did leave, she says "Make sure if you're leaving you wave good-bye! That way I know you're okay." Hmm.
We also had to do arm lifts with a weight bar. WHILE WE WALKED. FAST. I picked the lightest one they had: a 9 lb-er. Oh. We did arm curls with them, too. I've got sore upper arms which I am totally loving in a sick way. Once she started with the lunges-the ones where you completely touch your knee to the floor-with the weight bars I knew it was time to go. Fortunately, I had given the class 42.5 minutes (give or take 2.5 minutes) of my life. Whew.
Oh. I didn't wave when I left. I hope she's still wondering.
I am pleased to report I was able to provide a little motivation Kimert's way (also, you should know, I've totally been misspelling her name. It's one "M", not two).
I love my interations with my VWBs. I feel like a Wonder Twin. One of 5, actually. It's like we all raise our phones in the air andtext wext "Wonder Twin Powers: ACTIVATE!"
Form of ... "Death by Cardio Class".
I'm SO going back next week.
-jafg
280.0 lbs
At least it's moving in the right direction again.
So get this. I'm working on day three of a personal 7 day challenge that I haven't really told anyone about. I'm doing my own form of my own boot camp. I've got my VWBs which are helping me stay motivated. "What's this challenge?" I hear you ask. Well, I am making myself do some form of exercise every day for 7 days. I am trying to capture at least 30 minutes dedicated to movement solely for the sake of getting some form of physical activity and calorie burn. I'm calling it my "It's a whopping 30 minutes of your life" challenge. Actually, I stole that title from Kimert. She
I woke up Monday and today and did crunches. Twenty each time. I did bicycle things which really is just as hard for me as crunches. Maybe harder because I only have the stamina to do 5 sets. Monday night I did 20 minutes on the elliptical. Last night I did 40-45 minutes of a seriously intense Cardio workout. Angela Pea did her C25K power walking training (hey, I just realized I did that, too, in my class!). We
I'm talking sprinting, running, jogging, skipping. All things, by the way, I did not do. I faithfully walked at the fastest speed I could without tripping over my feet. Additionally, we had to do jumping jacks. If I do jumping jacks, like real ones, I'd throw my back out because of my bouncing belly. Yeah. I'm not kidding. But, I did a psuedo jump of sorts and kept my arms and legs moving. We did front kicks. We did back kicks. We did side kicks. My hip joints are sore today. And so are my upper thighs. It kinda hurts to stand up from a sitting position. But I'm not complaining.
I wanted to throw in the towel no less than tree times. Well, on the third time I actually did leave. But I'll get to that. The instructor came over personally to talk to me "off mic" twice to make sure I was "doing okay". That's never happened before. When we took our pulse count (mine was 28 and a 1/2) she looked right at me to say "It shouldn't be over 30! If it's over 30, be sure to keep those arms below your heart!" I don't know if anyone else noticed where she was looking, but I did. At one point, in between the the second time I almost left and the time I did leave, she says "Make sure if you're leaving you wave good-bye! That way I know you're okay." Hmm.
We also had to do arm lifts with a weight bar. WHILE WE WALKED. FAST. I picked the lightest one they had: a 9 lb-er. Oh. We did arm curls with them, too. I've got sore upper arms which I am totally loving in a sick way. Once she started with the lunges-the ones where you completely touch your knee to the floor-with the weight bars I knew it was time to go. Fortunately, I had given the class 42.5 minutes (give or take 2.5 minutes) of my life. Whew.
Oh. I didn't wave when I left. I hope she's still wondering.
I am pleased to report I was able to provide a little motivation Kimert's way (also, you should know, I've totally been misspelling her name. It's one "M", not two).
I love my interations with my VWBs. I feel like a Wonder Twin. One of 5, actually. It's like we all raise our phones in the air and
Form of ... "Death by Cardio Class".
I'm SO going back next week.
-jafg
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
WEXTING
08/03/10
???.? lbs
[I have no idea; I didn't weigh today.]
Ah, another fabulous benefit of VWBs: Workout texting. Or, WEXTING. Keeps things fun!
So Angela Pea is my VWB of the day. I'm hitting a new cardio class at the gym tonight. Yup. Me and my heat rash.
Fun times, indeed.
-jafg
???.? lbs
[I have no idea; I didn't weigh today.]
JAFG: [insert picture of elliptical machine] Guess where I am!
(20 minutes later)
JAFG: I think I got heat rash on my arrse from that little session.
JAFG: No kidding
Kimmert: LOL ouch!
JAFG: I know. Can't wait till I get home and sit on an icepack. :)
Kimmert: I've had chubrub on the thighs before and learned bodyglide is my friend!!
JAFG: Oooh what is that???And "chubrub" <===hahahahaha!
Kimmert: Looks like deodorant. Get it at Dicks sporting goods, runners use it to prevent chaffing. It's great! The Bodyglide, not the chubrub ;)
JAFG: Dunno...seems like under the right circumstances chubrub might not be so bad...
Ah, another fabulous benefit of VWBs: Workout texting. Or, WEXTING. Keeps things fun!
So Angela Pea is my VWB of the day. I'm hitting a new cardio class at the gym tonight. Yup. Me and my heat rash.
Fun times, indeed.
-jafg
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Damnit. AGAIN. DAMNIT!
07/08/10
I didn't weigh myself today. I thought about it, but then I got busy with other things.
I had a fantastic time at The LakeHouse over the weekend. I then proceded to do not a damn thing on Sunday afternoon and Monday. I slept, I ate, I watched TV, I washed some clothes, I washed bed linens. That's pretty much it. I was then down with a little bit of rumbly tumbly yesterday. And that's pretty much carrying through today, as well.
I have totally skinned up my knees from falling off the healthy living wagon. And the ground was really damn bumpy too. I may have even sprained an ankle. What all this means is that I have thrown Caring to the wind and not given a damn about exercise or healthy eating. Well, I haven't completely let go of healthy eating, but I did COMPLETELY let go of working out. I don't mean over the past two days either. I mean that since May, my exercising has been slowly slipping by the wayside.
I don't understand why I continue to have this up and down nonsense! I freakin know that exercise is the ONLY thing that will put My Fat in check. I know that if I don't watch every little thing I eat, I'm gonna be packin on the pounds. It took 3 effin months to kill 20 lbs! And I'm just throwing that away! I see it happening. I recognize the bad behavior, and yet, because life is totally stressing me right now, I choose to take the very easy way and not give a shit. Only the not giving a shit makes life totally stress even more because I DO give a shit!
So. That's where I am after a perfectly great holiday.
That 20 lbs that I lost was REAL. Like, I sweat that fat right out of me. I'm proud of that. So what the hell happened to my motivation???
-jafg
I didn't weigh myself today. I thought about it, but then I got busy with other things.
I had a fantastic time at The LakeHouse over the weekend. I then proceded to do not a damn thing on Sunday afternoon and Monday. I slept, I ate, I watched TV, I washed some clothes, I washed bed linens. That's pretty much it. I was then down with a little bit of rumbly tumbly yesterday. And that's pretty much carrying through today, as well.
This is a big DAMNIT session.
I have totally skinned up my knees from falling off the healthy living wagon. And the ground was really damn bumpy too. I may have even sprained an ankle. What all this means is that I have thrown Caring to the wind and not given a damn about exercise or healthy eating. Well, I haven't completely let go of healthy eating, but I did COMPLETELY let go of working out. I don't mean over the past two days either. I mean that since May, my exercising has been slowly slipping by the wayside.
I am ashamed PISSED.
I don't understand why I continue to have this up and down nonsense! I freakin know that exercise is the ONLY thing that will put My Fat in check. I know that if I don't watch every little thing I eat, I'm gonna be packin on the pounds. It took 3 effin months to kill 20 lbs! And I'm just throwing that away! I see it happening. I recognize the bad behavior, and yet, because life is totally stressing me right now, I choose to take the very easy way and not give a shit. Only the not giving a shit makes life totally stress even more because I DO give a shit!
So. That's where I am after a perfectly great holiday.
That 20 lbs that I lost was REAL. Like, I sweat that fat right out of me. I'm proud of that. So what the hell happened to my motivation???
-jafg
Monday, June 14, 2010
W.I.D.T.H.! (I'm Finally Famous...Sort Of)
06/14/10
277.4 lbs
Just yesterday the scale said 276.6 lbs. I have decided to make 275 lbs a goal for this week. Wish me luck!
Ok. So We've established I was out of town last week and the week before. Well, I was featured in Jack Sh*t's W.I.D.T.H. post on June 2! (Find that post here ==> WIDTH A Little Help From My Friends. I'm the 4th one down, you can't miss me...) I haven't been this excited since he actually posted a comment on my blog last year! (Find that post here ==> I Think Therefore I Can't?. Side note, I've come a long way, Baby!)
I didn't discover this until I ran to my internet upon my return home Tuesday. It was like getting a Christmas present that you hope you'll get, but aren't too sure you've been good enough throughout the year. I feel famous now.
I have almost won the bathing suit challenge! YAH-HOOOOO! I told you a few weeks ago that I made yet another bathing suit purchase; this one from Land's End. Can I just say they rock? I opted for a two-piece which still baffles and befuddles me. I've mentioned in other postings that, even though I am a plus-sized shopper, I do not have a plus-sized bust. This is really aggrivating when shopping for a bathing suit. I have enough to merritt underwire, but not enough to merritt a large cup area. I just need a normal size C-cup. When I buy a suit by the bra size, I end up with like a size 16 fit which isn't physically possible at the moment (<== like how I choose to stay postive here?) When I try just the "soft cup" one-piece The Girls just hang in not flattering ways. You see, perkiness just isn't part of the picture anymore.
Anyway. I decided to buy separates so I can specify a smaller top size to a lager bottom size. It totally worked. The girl swim shorts are a good fit as long as I'm not sitting at a 90* angle and one of the two tops fits superbly while the onter one will be nice for a little later this season (said optimistically). They're both the same size (in theory) but one's a halter and fits differently. I love it, but I'm new to halters so it's an adjustment. I'll be keeping that one for later this summer. My suits were delivered on Thursday.
Moms and I went to Concierge Gym on Sunday. She did two miles on the recumbent and decided to go to the pool while I finished up on the elliptical and weight/circuit machines. I got in a 50 minute workout that felt GOOD. I found her wading around so I took off the tennies sat down and put my feet in the water. Heaven. It was great. It occured to me that I had only gone swimming once while on vacation and that just wasn't setting right with the soul. There weren't many people around and I kept thinking "I could have gone and gotten my suit on and been back by now". By time I got to round three of that train of thought I'd had enough and went to change.
I decided to throw on my new suit (that's the solid black top, not the vine halter). I pull some shorts over my shorts, throw on my white button-down I use as a summer cover-up slather on a decent layer of sun-screen (I am a firm believer in protecting your skin in the sun), grab towels and the sun-screen bottles and head down to the pool. All in all, it took me about 15 minutes. I walked right in, took off my top layer of shorts, the button-down-cover-up and walked head held high (but still looking down so I didn't miss any steps) into the pool. What a triumphant moment! To top it off, I stayed in when cute boys came in. I didn't mind when they ended up at the spots next to ours. I was a little uncomfortable, but I didn't let me get too worked up, after all, I have a great tan right now. I get out, maneuver to put more sun-screen on, and totally lay out all exposed-like on my chair! To top it off, I totally manage to get an invitation to a White Party happening in the not so distant future from the cutest one.
At the end of pool time, I get up, pull on my button-down shirt and walk out. I didn't even pull on the second layer of shorts! I'm so very proud of me. This losing weight business has boosted my confidence in ways I didn't even know needed to be done.
That's just another reason Why I Do This Here...
-jafg
277.4 lbs
Just yesterday the scale said 276.6 lbs. I have decided to make 275 lbs a goal for this week. Wish me luck!
Ok. So We've established I was out of town last week and the week before. Well, I was featured in Jack Sh*t's W.I.D.T.H. post on June 2! (Find that post here ==> WIDTH A Little Help From My Friends. I'm the 4th one down, you can't miss me...) I haven't been this excited since he actually posted a comment on my blog last year! (Find that post here ==> I Think Therefore I Can't?. Side note, I've come a long way, Baby!)
I didn't discover this until I ran to my internet upon my return home Tuesday. It was like getting a Christmas present that you hope you'll get, but aren't too sure you've been good enough throughout the year. I feel famous now.
Onto other equally exciting news...
I have almost won the bathing suit challenge! YAH-HOOOOO! I told you a few weeks ago that I made yet another bathing suit purchase; this one from Land's End. Can I just say they rock? I opted for a two-piece which still baffles and befuddles me. I've mentioned in other postings that, even though I am a plus-sized shopper, I do not have a plus-sized bust. This is really aggrivating when shopping for a bathing suit. I have enough to merritt underwire, but not enough to merritt a large cup area. I just need a normal size C-cup. When I buy a suit by the bra size, I end up with like a size 16 fit which isn't physically possible at the moment (<== like how I choose to stay postive here?) When I try just the "soft cup" one-piece The Girls just hang in not flattering ways. You see, perkiness just isn't part of the picture anymore.
Anyway. I decided to buy separates so I can specify a smaller top size to a lager bottom size. It totally worked. The girl swim shorts are a good fit as long as I'm not sitting at a 90* angle and one of the two tops fits superbly while the onter one will be nice for a little later this season (said optimistically). They're both the same size (in theory) but one's a halter and fits differently. I love it, but I'm new to halters so it's an adjustment. I'll be keeping that one for later this summer. My suits were delivered on Thursday.
Aren't they cute??
Moms and I went to Concierge Gym on Sunday. She did two miles on the recumbent and decided to go to the pool while I finished up on the elliptical and weight/circuit machines. I got in a 50 minute workout that felt GOOD. I found her wading around so I took off the tennies sat down and put my feet in the water. Heaven. It was great. It occured to me that I had only gone swimming once while on vacation and that just wasn't setting right with the soul. There weren't many people around and I kept thinking "I could have gone and gotten my suit on and been back by now". By time I got to round three of that train of thought I'd had enough and went to change.
I decided to throw on my new suit (that's the solid black top, not the vine halter). I pull some shorts over my shorts, throw on my white button-down I use as a summer cover-up slather on a decent layer of sun-screen (I am a firm believer in protecting your skin in the sun), grab towels and the sun-screen bottles and head down to the pool. All in all, it took me about 15 minutes. I walked right in, took off my top layer of shorts, the button-down-cover-up and walked head held high (but still looking down so I didn't miss any steps) into the pool. What a triumphant moment! To top it off, I stayed in when cute boys came in. I didn't mind when they ended up at the spots next to ours. I was a little uncomfortable, but I didn't let me get too worked up, after all, I have a great tan right now. I get out, maneuver to put more sun-screen on, and totally lay out all exposed-like on my chair! To top it off, I totally manage to get an invitation to a White Party happening in the not so distant future from the cutest one.
At the end of pool time, I get up, pull on my button-down shirt and walk out. I didn't even pull on the second layer of shorts! I'm so very proud of me. This losing weight business has boosted my confidence in ways I didn't even know needed to be done.
That's just another reason Why I Do This Here...
-jafg
Friday, June 11, 2010
Awesome!
06/11/10
278.4 lbs
Where to begin, where to begin...
Firstly, Yea on the weight-front! I actually was gone from my abode for 7.5 days and managed to LOSE weight. 3 lbs even! Awesome! I'm pretty excited about that. It was great to be back at Beach Town, even with the threat of the looming oil spill (for which I am sincerely soliciting your prayers so they will get the well stopped and at least have an end to the leak itself). It's truly made a negative impact. The beaches were sparsely attended and this was the first full week of the season. Usually, you'd have to scope a place out at like 7:00 in the morning. Now, you can walk out at 2:00 in the afternoon and grab a fairly large patch of beach all to yourself. Anyway, I could write for days on this subject. It just breaks my heart.
On to less serious matters...
BFF arrived late Tuesday night. Wednesday morning, we woke up about 9ish and went for a workout. We then had a very healthy breakfast and I started backing. I actually crammed 7 days' worth of clothing into my middle suitcase. I still can't believe it made it all in. I felt bad for the thing really. I knew there wasn't a weight limit since we were driving and not flying, so I unzipped the extender (it has one built in which will expand the width of it, L-O-V-E It!) and loaded it up. I threw my extra shoes and bathroom necessities into two grocery-totes-turned-carry-ons. We finally got on the road about 1:30.
Oh. Let me share with you the best part. I called the nice, upscale, beachfront hotel prior to our departure because I didn't think we'd make the 4:00pm checkin time. Well, when on the phone I let them know that I'd need two beds and not one and here's the response I got:
"Oh, Ma'am, you don't have to worry about that. You have a 3 bedroom suite. You've been upgraded." Pregnant Pause."Well. Thank you. I'll see you when I get there." I totally didn't even mind that she called me ma'am.
We get to the hotel, we get our key and BFF is in charge of directing the bellhop with our luggage while I hurry off to find my first official gathering. You must remember, this is for a work conference, but it's more like a big party. These are all friendly industry colleagues. We all know each other and mostly love each other. We get together annually so it's always like a reunion. There was a Meet & Greet that had already started so I ran over to it to offer my "Hi How Are Ya"s. I must make nice with the masses. I also have to rub in the fact that I have been upgraded to a tower suite whilst all the peasant peoples have been relegated to regular rooms. I get fantastic reactions and grab two drinks from the complimentary bar (one is for BFF) and head up to said suite.
Well, I take the elevator to the 16th floor (there are only 17, btw). After making it to the top, there's this door and no hallway. I'm thinking "uh did I take the wrong elevator?" Well, I push through the door and am now outside on a breezeway. It's an entry like a motel. Suddenly, the visions of my 3-bedroom palace shrink to a room with two queen beds and a hide-a-way. How am I going to live this down?
I walk to the end of the corridor to my room. Awesome! At least it's a corner unit. Noise can only come from one side and, in turn, I can only bother one neighbor. Okay. I open my door and Holy. Crap. It really IS a palace! Actually, it's a condo unit with a wrap-around balcony, full kitchen, washer/dryer unit, master suite to DIE for with a master bathroom to DIE for even more! The master suite has a private balcony which became my second home. I totally had the party pad for the week. It was awesome.
There wasn't a night that I didn't see 3am. As a matter of fact, Friday, I actually was greeted by the Sunrise. Yikes. It was a moment to say the least.
Food was provided either by the conference or by the hotel. There was a fantab breakfast buffet which served omlettes and the best sausage gravy and biscuits. I had them 3 mornings in a row. I ate healthy lunches and barely touched a dinner and because of that, I maintained and even lost lbs! Awesome! I had the most awesome marinated portobello sandwich for lunch one day. Scrum-Chus.
Friday Moms had driven down for a visit to the beach and Sunday BFF headed back home. My Gramps was turning 81 on Tuesday (as in just this week...BFF's bday was Wednesday) so I planned on not coming home until then. Since I'd be in town on a weekday and would not be working, I made an appt with my Dr whom I love. I haven't found a replacement for her and don't know that I will. I may just continue to plan mini-breaks around my visits with her.
I hadn't seen her since January of last year and hadn't had "the visit" since the summer before that, so I took care of The Works. I won't horrify you with all the details, but I did talk to her about my weight. Turns out my highest weight was 287 lbs. This past trip I was 273 lbs. Now, before you get too excited, her scale has always ran 5 lbs lighter. That means the 287 lbs was actually 292 lbs and the 273 lbs is actually 278 lbs. That also means that I'm 13 lbs lighter than January 2009. For the first time in as long as I can remember, my wieght has decreased from year to year.
I feel pretty damn awesome about that.
-jafg
278.4 lbs
Where to begin, where to begin...
Firstly, Yea on the weight-front! I actually was gone from my abode for 7.5 days and managed to LOSE weight. 3 lbs even! Awesome! I'm pretty excited about that. It was great to be back at Beach Town, even with the threat of the looming oil spill (for which I am sincerely soliciting your prayers so they will get the well stopped and at least have an end to the leak itself). It's truly made a negative impact. The beaches were sparsely attended and this was the first full week of the season. Usually, you'd have to scope a place out at like 7:00 in the morning. Now, you can walk out at 2:00 in the afternoon and grab a fairly large patch of beach all to yourself. Anyway, I could write for days on this subject. It just breaks my heart.
On to less serious matters...
BFF arrived late Tuesday night. Wednesday morning, we woke up about 9ish and went for a workout. We then had a very healthy breakfast and I started backing. I actually crammed 7 days' worth of clothing into my middle suitcase. I still can't believe it made it all in. I felt bad for the thing really. I knew there wasn't a weight limit since we were driving and not flying, so I unzipped the extender (it has one built in which will expand the width of it, L-O-V-E It!) and loaded it up. I threw my extra shoes and bathroom necessities into two grocery-totes-turned-carry-ons. We finally got on the road about 1:30.
Oh. Let me share with you the best part. I called the nice, upscale, beachfront hotel prior to our departure because I didn't think we'd make the 4:00pm checkin time. Well, when on the phone I let them know that I'd need two beds and not one and here's the response I got:
"Oh, Ma'am, you don't have to worry about that. You have a 3 bedroom suite. You've been upgraded." Pregnant Pause.
We get to the hotel, we get our key and BFF is in charge of directing the bellhop with our luggage while I hurry off to find my first official gathering. You must remember, this is for a work conference, but it's more like a big party. These are all friendly industry colleagues. We all know each other and mostly love each other. We get together annually so it's always like a reunion. There was a Meet & Greet that had already started so I ran over to it to offer my "Hi How Are Ya"s. I must make nice with the masses. I also have to rub in the fact that I have been upgraded to a tower suite whilst all the peasant peoples have been relegated to regular rooms. I get fantastic reactions and grab two drinks from the complimentary bar (one is for BFF) and head up to said suite.
Well, I take the elevator to the 16th floor (there are only 17, btw). After making it to the top, there's this door and no hallway. I'm thinking "uh did I take the wrong elevator?" Well, I push through the door and am now outside on a breezeway. It's an entry like a motel. Suddenly, the visions of my 3-bedroom palace shrink to a room with two queen beds and a hide-a-way. How am I going to live this down?
I walk to the end of the corridor to my room. Awesome! At least it's a corner unit. Noise can only come from one side and, in turn, I can only bother one neighbor. Okay. I open my door and Holy. Crap. It really IS a palace! Actually, it's a condo unit with a wrap-around balcony, full kitchen, washer/dryer unit, master suite to DIE for with a master bathroom to DIE for even more! The master suite has a private balcony which became my second home. I totally had the party pad for the week. It was awesome.
There wasn't a night that I didn't see 3am. As a matter of fact, Friday, I actually was greeted by the Sunrise. Yikes. It was a moment to say the least.
Food was provided either by the conference or by the hotel. There was a fantab breakfast buffet which served omlettes and the best sausage gravy and biscuits. I had them 3 mornings in a row. I ate healthy lunches and barely touched a dinner and because of that, I maintained and even lost lbs! Awesome! I had the most awesome marinated portobello sandwich for lunch one day. Scrum-Chus.
Friday Moms had driven down for a visit to the beach and Sunday BFF headed back home. My Gramps was turning 81 on Tuesday (as in just this week...BFF's bday was Wednesday) so I planned on not coming home until then. Since I'd be in town on a weekday and would not be working, I made an appt with my Dr whom I love. I haven't found a replacement for her and don't know that I will. I may just continue to plan mini-breaks around my visits with her.
I hadn't seen her since January of last year and hadn't had "the visit" since the summer before that, so I took care of The Works. I won't horrify you with all the details, but I did talk to her about my weight. Turns out my highest weight was 287 lbs. This past trip I was 273 lbs. Now, before you get too excited, her scale has always ran 5 lbs lighter. That means the 287 lbs was actually 292 lbs and the 273 lbs is actually 278 lbs. That also means that I'm 13 lbs lighter than January 2009. For the first time in as long as I can remember, my wieght has decreased from year to year.
I feel pretty damn awesome about that.
-jafg
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
It Is What It Is
05/11/10
283.2 lbs
I've known this week was coming all year. I fly tomorrow. I hate flying. Not the flying so much, but the squishing into airplane seats. Fortunately, I'll be on a plane for 50 minutes and then on a plane for 2.5 hours. There's a bit of a break in between. Not much of one, but still.
I really wanted to be under 280 lbs for this trip and thought that since I'd been working out for over a month it was a possibility that it may happen. I've secretly felt like a failure every time I've stepped on the scale this past week because it didn't seem like it was going to happen. At least after Friday, the trip'll be behind me and all I have to focus on is a healthy diet and exercise.
So, this weekend I decided I wanted BBQ. Badly. So I pile Moms in the car and we head out for this BBQ place. That's when the crazy insanity ensued.
When I dine out, I always request a table. I've been in the habit of asking for a table for quite some time now. It's kinda weird, I used to always ask for a booth. The idea of sitting at a table in the center of the aisle always bugged me. Made me feel like a spotlight was on me and my food. Then I hit adulthood and could sit in the bars. Well sometime after that I realized that booths were no longer really comfortable. This, in case you haven't guessed, is because my girth had grown. That's right, there wasn't enough space between me and the table.
At first this was a slow realization. I'd be sitting with friends and think that the table was farther away from one side than the other and somehow I'd always sat on the small side. I'm a lefty which predetermines where I sit (most of the time). I thought perhaps restaurants thought leftys were skinnier and needed less space.
Then, I tried the seat swap. You'll never guess what happened. I was WRONG. One side of the booth was not smaller than the other! Well, once that happened, I then was forced with the realization that it was me that was bigger than the seat space. Great.
Of course, this picture is talking about the grown-up who goes back to elementary school, but you get the idea.
Since then, I've overcome my spotlight feeling (and learned to love it really) at a table and always know to specify prior to seating. Of course, ocassionally, I get ribbed by my friends..."what's up high maintenance?"...to which I give a hearty gafaw and move on with my life because, hey, it's really kinda true anyway.
In the not so distant past, on a night out with BB and SAG, I even tried to sit in a booth. I actually had to ask the girls to move to a nearby table because it just didn't work for me. I worked hard to not be embarrased. I could escape it because these are my workout buddies so they know I'm trying. It was still a little mortifying but the girls handled it like champs not giving one peep of snarkiness.
Well, this brings us back to Saturday. Moms and I get to the BBQ place and we can either instantly be sat at a booth or wait 20 minutes for a table. I spy one outside, a table that is, and decide to sit out there. The day is nice enough and the sun isn't going to be in our eyes. Well, I get out there and realize that the table is cemented to the wall. And to add to that, this is an end table so there's no possibility of moving the chairs to adjust the space. Moms sits down. It's kinda tight because the very skinny people at the table next to us are pushed back and talking. Well, that's taken care of with a simple "excuse me" and we're back to me. I'm staring at this seat. This very small crevice of a space they're calling a seat.
I squeeze myself into the space and I've got like a roll and a half poking over the table. I feel humiliated. It's almost to the point that I begin to feel punished. I know no one is looking at me but I felt like they were. All stress-inducing feelings are bubbling up so fast I know my face is turning red. Or maybe it was the fact that my circulation was being cut off at the waist. Either way, it's evident on my face that I'm an unhappy girl.
Moms quietly asks, "do you want to leave?" to which I can't reply "Yes" fast enough. There'd be no way I could eat anything served to me at this place.
Poor Moms. It's like when she tried to teach me how to drive a Standard. There was never so much cursing and swearing and yelling and spitting-ok, maybe there wasn't any spitting-in a car since that fateful Sunday afternoon oh so many years ago. She took it like a champ. It wasn't directed at her, it was just all those irrational feelings gushing out like some nasty infection.
Well, after driving her around half of Smaller Southern City, we wind up at another restaurant with excellent chicken and ribs. We valet the car (I wasn't kidding on the high maintenance part) and as soon as we're greeted I lay down the table law. With a smile on my face of course.
Moms and I sit down, I order a martini and she orders her glass of wine. The world is right again.
And then there's tomorrow on a plane.
Is 6:30am too early to drink?
-jafg
283.2 lbs
I've known this week was coming all year. I fly tomorrow. I hate flying. Not the flying so much, but the squishing into airplane seats. Fortunately, I'll be on a plane for 50 minutes and then on a plane for 2.5 hours. There's a bit of a break in between. Not much of one, but still.
I really wanted to be under 280 lbs for this trip and thought that since I'd been working out for over a month it was a possibility that it may happen. I've secretly felt like a failure every time I've stepped on the scale this past week because it didn't seem like it was going to happen. At least after Friday, the trip'll be behind me and all I have to focus on is a healthy diet and exercise.
So, this weekend I decided I wanted BBQ. Badly. So I pile Moms in the car and we head out for this BBQ place. That's when the crazy insanity ensued.
When I dine out, I always request a table. I've been in the habit of asking for a table for quite some time now. It's kinda weird, I used to always ask for a booth. The idea of sitting at a table in the center of the aisle always bugged me. Made me feel like a spotlight was on me and my food. Then I hit adulthood and could sit in the bars. Well sometime after that I realized that booths were no longer really comfortable. This, in case you haven't guessed, is because my girth had grown. That's right, there wasn't enough space between me and the table.
At first this was a slow realization. I'd be sitting with friends and think that the table was farther away from one side than the other and somehow I'd always sat on the small side. I'm a lefty which predetermines where I sit (most of the time). I thought perhaps restaurants thought leftys were skinnier and needed less space.
Then, I tried the seat swap. You'll never guess what happened. I was WRONG. One side of the booth was not smaller than the other! Well, once that happened, I then was forced with the realization that it was me that was bigger than the seat space. Great.
image totally pirated from imdb.com (<==love that site)
Of course, this picture is talking about the grown-up who goes back to elementary school, but you get the idea.
Since then, I've overcome my spotlight feeling (and learned to love it really) at a table and always know to specify prior to seating. Of course, ocassionally, I get ribbed by my friends..."what's up high maintenance?"...to which I give a hearty gafaw and move on with my life because, hey, it's really kinda true anyway.
In the not so distant past, on a night out with BB and SAG, I even tried to sit in a booth. I actually had to ask the girls to move to a nearby table because it just didn't work for me. I worked hard to not be embarrased. I could escape it because these are my workout buddies so they know I'm trying. It was still a little mortifying but the girls handled it like champs not giving one peep of snarkiness.
Well, this brings us back to Saturday. Moms and I get to the BBQ place and we can either instantly be sat at a booth or wait 20 minutes for a table. I spy one outside, a table that is, and decide to sit out there. The day is nice enough and the sun isn't going to be in our eyes. Well, I get out there and realize that the table is cemented to the wall. And to add to that, this is an end table so there's no possibility of moving the chairs to adjust the space. Moms sits down. It's kinda tight because the very skinny people at the table next to us are pushed back and talking. Well, that's taken care of with a simple "excuse me" and we're back to me. I'm staring at this seat. This very small crevice of a space they're calling a seat.
I squeeze myself into the space and I've got like a roll and a half poking over the table. I feel humiliated. It's almost to the point that I begin to feel punished. I know no one is looking at me but I felt like they were. All stress-inducing feelings are bubbling up so fast I know my face is turning red. Or maybe it was the fact that my circulation was being cut off at the waist. Either way, it's evident on my face that I'm an unhappy girl.
Moms quietly asks, "do you want to leave?" to which I can't reply "Yes" fast enough. There'd be no way I could eat anything served to me at this place.
Poor Moms. It's like when she tried to teach me how to drive a Standard. There was never so much cursing and swearing and yelling and spitting-ok, maybe there wasn't any spitting-in a car since that fateful Sunday afternoon oh so many years ago. She took it like a champ. It wasn't directed at her, it was just all those irrational feelings gushing out like some nasty infection.
Well, after driving her around half of Smaller Southern City, we wind up at another restaurant with excellent chicken and ribs. We valet the car (I wasn't kidding on the high maintenance part) and as soon as we're greeted I lay down the table law. With a smile on my face of course.
Moms and I sit down, I order a martini and she orders her glass of wine. The world is right again.
And then there's tomorrow on a plane.
Is 6:30am too early to drink?
-jafg
Friday, April 16, 2010
I Got Nothin.
04/16/10
289.0 lbs
I don't doubt it. I haven't done a damn thing in the workout relm since Wednesday. I am gonna be working out a mean mess tonight though. I'm joining The Gym.
I really wish I could wax poetic about something but I gots nothin. As you may have already guessed from the title....
I've been a total food whore since Tuesday night. BB wasn't feeling very motivated, so we bought Digiorno with everything on it. And got cokes. Well, I had Mr. Pibb. I had four pieces of that great Digiorno. Four. Pieces. Yommm. I mean "bad jafg!".
Wednesday night I pigged on sushi. And not the little, light stuff. I'm talking tempura shrimp rolls which are then flash fried. It was good. I was bad. I then had awesome fried chicken breast sandwich with a slice of all american cheese and extra pickles for lunch yesterday. With the best damn fries on the planet. And the biggest unsweet tea I could get and still drink it with a straw.
I'm glad for the workout tonight. And that I ate all the pepperoni pizza already.
It's the small stuff you gotta stay happy about.
-jafg
289.0 lbs
I don't doubt it. I haven't done a damn thing in the workout relm since Wednesday. I am gonna be working out a mean mess tonight though. I'm joining The Gym.
I really wish I could wax poetic about something but I gots nothin. As you may have already guessed from the title....
I've been a total food whore since Tuesday night. BB wasn't feeling very motivated, so we bought Digiorno with everything on it. And got cokes. Well, I had Mr. Pibb. I had four pieces of that great Digiorno. Four. Pieces. Yommm. I mean "bad jafg!".
Wednesday night I pigged on sushi. And not the little, light stuff. I'm talking tempura shrimp rolls which are then flash fried. It was good. I was bad. I then had awesome fried chicken breast sandwich with a slice of all american cheese and extra pickles for lunch yesterday. With the best damn fries on the planet. And the biggest unsweet tea I could get and still drink it with a straw. Last night, not feeling terribly social, I got pizza. Domino's happens to be closest to me so I ordered a large thin crust veggie to pick up on my way home.
Well, it woulda been $17. WTH? For a thin crust veggie? I don't know if you've ever had one of those, but it's totally not enough on its own to justify an Andrew Jackson. Being the thrifty shopper that I am, I asked them about their specials. I tried to get them to give me the Pizza Hut $10 special but no love. I ended up with two large pizzas for $25. That includes tax. One was veggie for me, and one was pepperoni and mushroom for My Fat. We both were very happy. Until of course, I got on the scale this AM.
Well, it woulda been $17. WTH? For a thin crust veggie? I don't know if you've ever had one of those, but it's totally not enough on its own to justify an Andrew Jackson. Being the thrifty shopper that I am, I asked them about their specials. I tried to get them to give me the Pizza Hut $10 special but no love. I ended up with two large pizzas for $25. That includes tax. One was veggie for me, and one was pepperoni and mushroom for My Fat. We both were very happy. Until of course, I got on the scale this AM. I had one hell of a time trying to get my tag transferred from Small Beachtown to Small Southern City. 3 hours later, no tag and one hungry lady. I had a repeat of yesterday's lunch. Although this time, no cheese and a small fry. I still had the largest unsweet tea that anyone could carry in one hand, though.
I'm glad for the workout tonight. And that I ate all the pepperoni pizza already.
It's the small stuff you gotta stay happy about.
-jafg
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
One Pound
04/06/10
290.2 lbs
Attention Amanda! I lost myself a pound! WOOHOO! I am so freakin happy right now.
I really have been pissed about the whole not losing pounds thing. I've been discouraged. I've been downtrodden even. I've been whiney and wimpy. Well, maybe not wimpy. I haven't stopped excersicing. I haven't binged. Well, I did go see a movie with my mom over Easter weekend. I wanted to order two small popcorns and two waters. We ended up with one large popcorn and two medium cokes. It was cheaper that way. I don't have much more to say about that.
My point is I haven't given up. I have carried on like a little trooper. With a big tummy. A very big tummy. And I'm so not carrying babies in there. I have subjected myself to public display of working-out-ness among people like SG Duo and lots of other skinny chicks and muscley men. I have pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone that the only thing left to conquer is walking naked in a crowded shopping mall or, worse yet, be in a bathingsuit at the lake.
Let me tell you about last night. I totally went to that hiphop workout class. It's an hour long. O.M.G. Firstly, most of the people in there are thin. The teacher is a brick house dancing machine. People who are not in shape are still ten times fitter than I am. At least. So we start out by a little bit of marching and boucning to the music. My first session with She-Devil (see yesterday's post) has taught me to be wary of the whole marching thing. Actually, I think I'm developing a phobia. Marching is an omen of bad things to come.
Anyway, SAG, BB and I are all standing there nervously giggling, not because anything is funny, but because we're all nervous. I've never been to a workout class. E-V-E-R ever. I have no idea what this is about. I've watched workout videos before but these are things I recognize as like exercise or something. This is loud pop music remix to which we learn steps. And then we put the steps together. I have a new respect for Dancing with the Stars.
This stuff was crazy. Firstly, I have established many times over I'm particularly thick in the middle. I've got big legs and big ass, but it's a flat ass and my legs are pretty damn solid. What I have a whole lot of is that Jiggle in the Middle. Hip Hop requires a lot of shaking hips and wiggling ass and jumping and kicking and overall stuff that jiggling just isn't down with. In case you didn't know. OH Yeah, the room is like one big mirror. E-GAD. Add that to the mix of motion and you can imagine the horror movie I was about to watch. With me as the star. This was gonna be bad.
I have to admit, I almost walked out. I almost got to the point of giving up but all I could think of was the one pound that I wanted to lose. I pushed myself to give this a one whole class effort. I got a little frustrated, but only because I couldn't learn the steps fast enough. For the first 20 minutes I thought that it really wasn't that bad. Except for looking like a complete fool and not being able to move in a coordinated fashion, the workout itself was not that taxing. Then we move into phase 2.
Alright, things are moving faster, I somewhat have down everything from phase 1 and am really picking up the steps of this section. I'm also sweating a bit. Awesome! Ok, the end of this 15 minute section I'm really huffing and puffing. My shirt keeps pulling up in front and now I know why gym people like their clothes so fitted. With all the moving around, I'm constantly having to pull things down, adjust the shorts, fix the bra, all sorts of things. I go for water. The Girls are dying too. Sweat and Missteps. I feel a little better about it.
So we're called back from our water break and start building on what we've learned on phase 1-2. This one involves jumping and gyrating. Shit. NO ONE wants to see a fat person jump and gyrate. Especially the fat person. It's just not a pretty picture. I caught a few glimpses, and I can't get the images out of my mind.
I work it out with my own version of a jump and gyrate. I have never been more caucasian in my life. EVER. Another 10 minutes pass and we get another water break. My body is beginning to die on me. I'm starting to feel the shaking again. My body gets to a certain point in exercise and it begins to shake; like on the ellypticals and I feel like I could vibrate my way around the gym. I've been told it's because I'm pushing my muscles to the point of exhaustion which is good. I don't get it.
Well, we've got 15 minutes left and I really don't know how I'm gonna make it. We've got a 10 minute final session and then we move to our 5 minute cool down. I really don't remember the final 10 minutes. I know I didn't pass out. I know that I didn't fall down or break anything. The only thing I can figure is that I blocked it out due to the emotional scarring all that jiggle and gyrating had on my poor psychie. I seriously doubt that anything I did in that final 10 minutes looked like dance moves, but at least I kept moving and didn't just fall out right there on the floor. I wanted to. But I didn't. I wanted to wretch at the end of the night. I may have to equate marching with feelings of near wretching. They seem to go hand-in-hand.
That's not even talking about how I felt when I got home. I hate that class.
I'm going again tomorrow night.
-jafg
290.2 lbs
Attention Amanda! I lost myself a pound! WOOHOO! I am so freakin happy right now.
I really have been pissed about the whole not losing pounds thing. I've been discouraged. I've been downtrodden even. I've been whiney and wimpy. Well, maybe not wimpy. I haven't stopped excersicing. I haven't binged. Well, I did go see a movie with my mom over Easter weekend. I wanted to order two small popcorns and two waters. We ended up with one large popcorn and two medium cokes. It was cheaper that way. I don't have much more to say about that.
My point is I haven't given up. I have carried on like a little trooper. With a big tummy. A very big tummy. And I'm so not carrying babies in there. I have subjected myself to public display of working-out-ness among people like SG Duo and lots of other skinny chicks and muscley men. I have pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone that the only thing left to conquer is walking naked in a crowded shopping mall or, worse yet, be in a bathingsuit at the lake.
Let me tell you about last night. I totally went to that hiphop workout class. It's an hour long. O.M.G. Firstly, most of the people in there are thin. The teacher is a brick house dancing machine. People who are not in shape are still ten times fitter than I am. At least. So we start out by a little bit of marching and boucning to the music. My first session with She-Devil (see yesterday's post) has taught me to be wary of the whole marching thing. Actually, I think I'm developing a phobia. Marching is an omen of bad things to come.
Anyway, SAG, BB and I are all standing there nervously giggling, not because anything is funny, but because we're all nervous. I've never been to a workout class. E-V-E-R ever. I have no idea what this is about. I've watched workout videos before but these are things I recognize as like exercise or something. This is loud pop music remix to which we learn steps. And then we put the steps together. I have a new respect for Dancing with the Stars.
This stuff was crazy. Firstly, I have established many times over I'm particularly thick in the middle. I've got big legs and big ass, but it's a flat ass and my legs are pretty damn solid. What I have a whole lot of is that Jiggle in the Middle. Hip Hop requires a lot of shaking hips and wiggling ass and jumping and kicking and overall stuff that jiggling just isn't down with. In case you didn't know. OH Yeah, the room is like one big mirror. E-GAD. Add that to the mix of motion and you can imagine the horror movie I was about to watch. With me as the star. This was gonna be bad.
I have to admit, I almost walked out. I almost got to the point of giving up but all I could think of was the one pound that I wanted to lose. I pushed myself to give this a one whole class effort. I got a little frustrated, but only because I couldn't learn the steps fast enough. For the first 20 minutes I thought that it really wasn't that bad. Except for looking like a complete fool and not being able to move in a coordinated fashion, the workout itself was not that taxing. Then we move into phase 2.
Alright, things are moving faster, I somewhat have down everything from phase 1 and am really picking up the steps of this section. I'm also sweating a bit. Awesome! Ok, the end of this 15 minute section I'm really huffing and puffing. My shirt keeps pulling up in front and now I know why gym people like their clothes so fitted. With all the moving around, I'm constantly having to pull things down, adjust the shorts, fix the bra, all sorts of things. I go for water. The Girls are dying too. Sweat and Missteps. I feel a little better about it.
So we're called back from our water break and start building on what we've learned on phase 1-2. This one involves jumping and gyrating. Shit. NO ONE wants to see a fat person jump and gyrate. Especially the fat person. It's just not a pretty picture. I caught a few glimpses, and I can't get the images out of my mind.
I work it out with my own version of a jump and gyrate. I have never been more caucasian in my life. EVER. Another 10 minutes pass and we get another water break. My body is beginning to die on me. I'm starting to feel the shaking again. My body gets to a certain point in exercise and it begins to shake; like on the ellypticals and I feel like I could vibrate my way around the gym. I've been told it's because I'm pushing my muscles to the point of exhaustion which is good. I don't get it.
Well, we've got 15 minutes left and I really don't know how I'm gonna make it. We've got a 10 minute final session and then we move to our 5 minute cool down. I really don't remember the final 10 minutes. I know I didn't pass out. I know that I didn't fall down or break anything. The only thing I can figure is that I blocked it out due to the emotional scarring all that jiggle and gyrating had on my poor psychie. I seriously doubt that anything I did in that final 10 minutes looked like dance moves, but at least I kept moving and didn't just fall out right there on the floor. I wanted to. But I didn't. I wanted to wretch at the end of the night. I may have to equate marching with feelings of near wretching. They seem to go hand-in-hand.
That's not even talking about how I felt when I got home. I hate that class.
I'm going again tomorrow night.
-jafg
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Kicker.
04/05/10
291.2 lbs
We'll talk about weight in a minute.
Hello My Lovelies! I've missed the hell out of you. I've been tweeting my little heart out since last we met because it's so much easier to type 144 characters than to sit down and commit 30 to 45 minutes to blog writing. Or even an hour. First, let me start with the good news.
That quarter of a mile measurement was a total crock of bull-arkie. I drove our walking track and discovered that it's actually just at one mile! I so deleted that tracking app.
Second Good News. I've been a workout mama! I was off on Friday and even worked out! AT MY OWN GYM! That's right. I walked into my own Concierge Gym and me and My Fat got on an ellyptical and rocked it for 20 minutes! WOO-FREAKIN-HOO! Oh and get this, BB and I also worked out on weight machines for another 15 minutes! That's right, I did it, I did it, I did it! I also went last Wednesday and worked out at the YMCA with SAG and BB. We were going to do this hip-hop class, but chickened out at the last minute and worked on the ellyptical for 30 minutes. After that we played basket ball. Or something resembling basket ball. Mostly SAG ran circles around BB and me. I mean that literally.
Thursday BB came to the abode and we did my Wii Jenny McCarthy Your Shape workout. I hadn't used it yet and thought the change might be kinda fun.
Holy. Crap.
This little Jenny avatar pops on the screen all cute and blonde and full of perk. Alright...It's in a gaming system after all. She starts out with a warm up which consists of marching in place. I was thinking "What a freakin waste of money and time". WAS.
Then the Jenny Avatar starts with all sorts of things like Plies (that is PLEE-YAY...I'm not quite sure how to spell it) and arm lifts and some wicked up-down-forward-back-leg-arm-thing that I still don't get. Evil She-Devil! Then she makes you get on your back. You do this thing called riding a bike. Uh huh. I thought I was going to die. It's not a quick motion thing, it's a move your leg and hold it in that position until you die thing. And then you move your other leg and start over. Oh wait. It gets worse.
You've gotta roll over and get on your stomach. Stretch your arms out in front of you and your legs out behind you. Then, act as if you're being drawn and quartered. For those of you who don't know what that is, imagine a rope being tied to each limb and being pulled in opposite directions (arms away from legs/legs away from arms). That is "swimming" as She-Devil calls it. Great. Not only am I going to die, but I am now going to vomit beforehand. This stretches muscles I didn't know existed. Like, people say that, but I mean it. I had no idea there was a muscle in this weird place on my side. I do now. I didn't know that it was possible to hate a cartoon character that much. BB feels the same way. We're keeping She-Devil to a Thursday night work-out. I don't think I could handle more than that.
All this pain and sweating is a good thing. I've been getting great side-effects too. My kitchen is clean and so is my room. I've got all this energy and I just want to be moving. I haven't felt like this in a long time. I'm actually going to that hip-hop workout class tonight. I even got up this morning at 5:30am (I said A. M. People!) to get to MY gym at 6:00am to workout with BB and Her Beau.
I know. "Who are you and what have you done with our belov-ed JAFG?!" I'm pretty shocked about the whole thing too.
Now The Kicker...I've been eating very healthy for going on three weeks now (since I started communicating with you all again). I've been consciously active for going on two weeks straight. I feel better about myself, I don't feel deprived, and I'm even looking forward to the workouts-somewhat. How much weight have I lost? NOT ONE FREAKING POUND. Damnit.
-jafg
291.2 lbs
We'll talk about weight in a minute.
Hello My Lovelies! I've missed the hell out of you. I've been tweeting my little heart out since last we met because it's so much easier to type 144 characters than to sit down and commit 30 to 45 minutes to blog writing. Or even an hour. First, let me start with the good news.
That quarter of a mile measurement was a total crock of bull-arkie. I drove our walking track and discovered that it's actually just at one mile! I so deleted that tracking app.
Second Good News. I've been a workout mama! I was off on Friday and even worked out! AT MY OWN GYM! That's right. I walked into my own Concierge Gym and me and My Fat got on an ellyptical and rocked it for 20 minutes! WOO-FREAKIN-HOO! Oh and get this, BB and I also worked out on weight machines for another 15 minutes! That's right, I did it, I did it, I did it!
Thursday BB came to the abode and we did my Wii Jenny McCarthy Your Shape workout. I hadn't used it yet and thought the change might be kinda fun.
Holy. Crap.
This little Jenny avatar pops on the screen all cute and blonde and full of perk. Alright...It's in a gaming system after all. She starts out with a warm up which consists of marching in place. I was thinking "What a freakin waste of money and time". WAS.
Then the Jenny Avatar starts with all sorts of things like Plies (that is PLEE-YAY...I'm not quite sure how to spell it) and arm lifts and some wicked up-down-forward-back-leg-arm-thing that I still don't get. Evil She-Devil! Then she makes you get on your back. You do this thing called riding a bike. Uh huh. I thought I was going to die. It's not a quick motion thing, it's a move your leg and hold it in that position until you die thing. And then you move your other leg and start over. Oh wait. It gets worse.
You've gotta roll over and get on your stomach. Stretch your arms out in front of you and your legs out behind you. Then, act as if you're being drawn and quartered. For those of you who don't know what that is, imagine a rope being tied to each limb and being pulled in opposite directions (arms away from legs/legs away from arms). That is "swimming" as She-Devil calls it. Great. Not only am I going to die, but I am now going to vomit beforehand. This stretches muscles I didn't know existed. Like, people say that, but I mean it. I had no idea there was a muscle in this weird place on my side. I do now. I didn't know that it was possible to hate a cartoon character that much. BB feels the same way. We're keeping She-Devil to a Thursday night work-out. I don't think I could handle more than that.
All this pain and sweating is a good thing. I've been getting great side-effects too. My kitchen is clean and so is my room. I've got all this energy and I just want to be moving. I haven't felt like this in a long time. I'm actually going to that hip-hop workout class tonight. I even got up this morning at 5:30am (I said A. M. People!) to get to MY gym at 6:00am to workout with BB and Her Beau.
I know. "Who are you and what have you done with our belov-ed JAFG?!" I'm pretty shocked about the whole thing too.
Now The Kicker...I've been eating very healthy for going on three weeks now (since I started communicating with you all again). I've been consciously active for going on two weeks straight. I feel better about myself, I don't feel deprived, and I'm even looking forward to the workouts-somewhat. How much weight have I lost? NOT ONE FREAKING POUND. Damnit.
-jafg
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A BIG F-***-ING DEAL
03/23/10
296.6 lbs
In the immortal words of our US VP...
THIS IS A BIG F-***-ING DEAL. This isn't funny. And neither is the other, but that's a whole 'nother blog.
Ok, yes. Right now, I am weighing at night. After I eat. And drink. Lots and lots of decaffeinated tea sweetened with Splenda. I am getting up in the middle of the night to take a little bathroom break. I think this is better for my kidneys, but I could be wrong. Eh, 12 hours of gravity may be adding an additional 3.3 lbs. Dear lord I hope it's not real weight. I'm also not going to state the obvious and say this is the MOST I've ever weighed and never would I have imagined I could weigh this much. No wonder my knees ache when I walk up The Steps.
I watched The Biggest Loser tonight. I watched this group bike a marathon. By the 26.2 mile marker, I was practically jumping up and down on Oprah's couch. I wanted to jump on a bike and do the same thing. And then I got on the scale. Holy crap.
I watched Kirstie Alley's Big Life last night. It was really good. She's funny. She wonders, though, why everyone focuses on her weight. I personally think it's because she's made a big deal about her weight. I am proud of her because she's really doing something. She's hired a personal trainer and has a "chubby buddy" who works out with her. I think he gets paid to do it, though.
I am also all about this new Jamie Oliver Food Revolution thing. I think health should start young. And with Parents too. And with schools.
There's a bunch of stuff all over the place right now that is all about being right. Doing right. Eating and living right. I am excited about it and I hope it helps. I need to get back down to when I thought I was just fat.
-jafg
296.6 lbs
In the immortal words of our US VP...
THIS IS A BIG F-***-ING DEAL. This isn't funny. And neither is the other, but that's a whole 'nother blog.
Ok, yes. Right now, I am weighing at night. After I eat. And drink. Lots and lots of decaffeinated tea sweetened with Splenda. I am getting up in the middle of the night to take a little bathroom break. I think this is better for my kidneys, but I could be wrong. Eh, 12 hours of gravity may be adding an additional 3.3 lbs. Dear lord I hope it's not real weight. I'm also not going to state the obvious and say this is the MOST I've ever weighed and never would I have imagined I could weigh this much. No wonder my knees ache when I walk up The Steps.I watched The Biggest Loser tonight. I watched this group bike a marathon. By the 26.2 mile marker, I was practically jumping up and down on Oprah's couch. I wanted to jump on a bike and do the same thing. And then I got on the scale. Holy crap.
I watched Kirstie Alley's Big Life last night. It was really good. She's funny. She wonders, though, why everyone focuses on her weight. I personally think it's because she's made a big deal about her weight. I am proud of her because she's really doing something. She's hired a personal trainer and has a "chubby buddy" who works out with her. I think he gets paid to do it, though.
I am also all about this new Jamie Oliver Food Revolution thing. I think health should start young. And with Parents too. And with schools.
There's a bunch of stuff all over the place right now that is all about being right. Doing right. Eating and living right. I am excited about it and I hope it helps. I need to get back down to when I thought I was just fat.
-jafg
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Fearing the Flappy Flab
10/28/09
281.6 lbs
I really don't see this as a gain. It fluxuated like this last week. If it goes up tomorrow, I'll consider panicking.
I watched The Biggest Loser last night. I tuned in after "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown". I don't really follow that show. I've just never gotten past the fact that there are people out there that are watching it to make fun of fat people or exploit them or whatever. You know they're out there.
I'm gonna sound like a bitch here...you've been warned.
I was watching the "last chance workout" and saw a lot of emotional-baggage/crying-stuff stuff. Why on earth would anyone allow themselves to have these breakdowns on national TV? In a room full of sweaty people? And with a personal trainer?! It's not like he or she is a trained psychologist or something. The girl trainer totally looks uncomfortable with the tears. She's just mean, anyway. This all bugs me. Greatly. Work on your issues elsewhere, please. I had the same problem with More to Love. All the "I've been sad all my life and that's why I'm fat" crap. This isn't going to make me a popular person, but it is possible to be fat and be fairly well-adjusted. Really. It is. Nevermind the fact that I had my own personal breakdown when trying to go to the gym. That may have been talked about on the internet, but you wouldn't know me from any other cute fat lady standing behind you eyeing the peanut M & M's in the grocery. Anonymity is not an option when you have a TV camera in your face.
Enough of that. What I really wanted to comment on is a fear that I've developed after watching last night's episode. In all seriousness here, I'm afraid of sagging skin when I finally drop the weight. These folks are losing weight at hyper-speed (like 101 lbs in 7 weeks-WTF?!?) so they've drastically changed eating habits and work-out from dawn until way past dusk. It's super fast weightloss so maybe the skin doesn't have time to recover, but come on...that's a lot of saggy skin.
I've never posted full body pictures here...and maybe I should....so you don't really ever see anything other than the words I type on the screen. Of course, this doesn't represent any of my physical qualities but my fabulous personality traits. You all know you'd have fun with me if we ever went out for adult beverages. I'd make you have fun. You wouldn't be allowed to do anything else. Anyway, my point is, I am less than 20 lbs away from 300lbs. (There's a dose of reality for ya.) There is only so much "weight appropriate" dressing you can do with a good top and bottom set. Silhoettes only go so far.
Well, there's a lot of skin covering a lot of fat here. When the fat goes away, what's gonna happen to the skin?!?! I'm nervous. I'm thinking of my Middle and my arms here. Not to mention my breasts. I don't need them to deflate! I've watched Dr. 90210 before. I watched Adam Sandler's "Click" (it wasn't the best movie in the world). I've seen those mushy fleshy all puckered and flat pieces of skin that are just lying there on otherwise skinny people.
For those of you in the reading audience who have lost large amounts of wieght and surface area, what happened to your skin? If you lose the weight slowly, does this not happen?
Is there hope or only serious cosmetic surgery in my future?
-jafg
281.6 lbs
I really don't see this as a gain. It fluxuated like this last week. If it goes up tomorrow, I'll consider panicking.
I watched The Biggest Loser last night. I tuned in after "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown". I don't really follow that show. I've just never gotten past the fact that there are people out there that are watching it to make fun of fat people or exploit them or whatever. You know they're out there.
I'm gonna sound like a bitch here...you've been warned.
I was watching the "last chance workout" and saw a lot of emotional-baggage/crying-stuff stuff. Why on earth would anyone allow themselves to have these breakdowns on national TV? In a room full of sweaty people? And with a personal trainer?! It's not like he or she is a trained psychologist or something. The girl trainer totally looks uncomfortable with the tears. She's just mean, anyway. This all bugs me. Greatly. Work on your issues elsewhere, please. I had the same problem with More to Love. All the "I've been sad all my life and that's why I'm fat" crap. This isn't going to make me a popular person, but it is possible to be fat and be fairly well-adjusted. Really. It is. Nevermind the fact that I had my own personal breakdown when trying to go to the gym. That may have been talked about on the internet, but you wouldn't know me from any other cute fat lady standing behind you eyeing the peanut M & M's in the grocery. Anonymity is not an option when you have a TV camera in your face.
Enough of that. What I really wanted to comment on is a fear that I've developed after watching last night's episode. In all seriousness here, I'm afraid of sagging skin when I finally drop the weight. These folks are losing weight at hyper-speed (like 101 lbs in 7 weeks-WTF?!?) so they've drastically changed eating habits and work-out from dawn until way past dusk. It's super fast weightloss so maybe the skin doesn't have time to recover, but come on...that's a lot of saggy skin.
I've never posted full body pictures here...and maybe I should....so you don't really ever see anything other than the words I type on the screen. Of course, this doesn't represent any of my physical qualities but my fabulous personality traits. You all know you'd have fun with me if we ever went out for adult beverages. I'd make you have fun. You wouldn't be allowed to do anything else. Anyway, my point is, I am less than 20 lbs away from 300lbs. (There's a dose of reality for ya.) There is only so much "weight appropriate" dressing you can do with a good top and bottom set. Silhoettes only go so far.
Well, there's a lot of skin covering a lot of fat here. When the fat goes away, what's gonna happen to the skin?!?! I'm nervous. I'm thinking of my Middle and my arms here. Not to mention my breasts. I don't need them to deflate! I've watched Dr. 90210 before. I watched Adam Sandler's "Click" (it wasn't the best movie in the world). I've seen those mushy fleshy all puckered and flat pieces of skin that are just lying there on otherwise skinny people.
For those of you in the reading audience who have lost large amounts of wieght and surface area, what happened to your skin? If you lose the weight slowly, does this not happen?
Is there hope or only serious cosmetic surgery in my future?
-jafg
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
8 Days: 23 Hours: 27 Minutes: 14 Seconds Ago
10/27/09
280.2 lbs
I've been sick. I had bronchitis. I had to get TWO shots in my ass: 1 shot of steriod and 1 shot of antibiotic. In addition to a pill regiment. I also had to be tested for strep and flu. This means they stick long cotton swabs down your thoat and up your nose. I'm not bitter. I am pretty excited about the weight, though. It did get as high as 284 last week, but I don't know if that really counts because it then bottomed out at the 0 and 1 mark. I'm counting it as a "holding steady" for a whole week. That kinda makes up for the shots and the swabs. Kinda.
I've got bigger news for you, though. I quit smoking! I've given you an approximation of the last time I inhaled. It's not like I'm keeping track or anything.
As I said, I've been sick. I saw the opportunity to stop something bad (since I usually only get sick sick when My Habit is in full swing) and I took it. I'm still coughing and still sound a little hoarse, but over all I'm feeling like a champ. A bit of a frustrated champ, but still, a champ.
Yes; I've quit before. This time I'm working on making it permenant. Again. Years have gone by before between cigarettes, but somehow I manage to let smoking wiggle its way back into my life. Sort of exactly like My Fat. It seems a little ridiculous to be trying to change My Fat habits and change My Habit habits at the same time; but, for some reason, my brain has decided to pair them together. Like having two things to obsess over will actually ease the burden of both. I don't get the logic, but that's what has ended up happening. We'll see how it goes.
It's been easier for me to lay My Habit aside when I'm not feeling that great. I was home all last week. Crabbiness wasn't an issue for others. I slept most of the time and the rest of the time I was laid up on the couch with Kitty watching Murder She Wrote. It's on Hallmark in the middle of the day and it's totally a guilty pleasure. I usually record it.
You can't honestly expect me to give up ALL of my vices.
-jafg
280.2 lbs
I've been sick. I had bronchitis. I had to get TWO shots in my ass: 1 shot of steriod and 1 shot of antibiotic. In addition to a pill regiment. I also had to be tested for strep and flu. This means they stick long cotton swabs down your thoat and up your nose. I'm not bitter. I am pretty excited about the weight, though. It did get as high as 284 last week, but I don't know if that really counts because it then bottomed out at the 0 and 1 mark. I'm counting it as a "holding steady" for a whole week. That kinda makes up for the shots and the swabs. Kinda.
I've got bigger news for you, though. I quit smoking! I've given you an approximation of the last time I inhaled. It's not like I'm keeping track or anything.
As I said, I've been sick. I saw the opportunity to stop something bad (since I usually only get sick sick when My Habit is in full swing) and I took it. I'm still coughing and still sound a little hoarse, but over all I'm feeling like a champ. A bit of a frustrated champ, but still, a champ.
Yes; I've quit before. This time I'm working on making it permenant. Again. Years have gone by before between cigarettes, but somehow I manage to let smoking wiggle its way back into my life. Sort of exactly like My Fat. It seems a little ridiculous to be trying to change My Fat habits and change My Habit habits at the same time; but, for some reason, my brain has decided to pair them together. Like having two things to obsess over will actually ease the burden of both. I don't get the logic, but that's what has ended up happening. We'll see how it goes.
It's been easier for me to lay My Habit aside when I'm not feeling that great. I was home all last week. Crabbiness wasn't an issue for others. I slept most of the time and the rest of the time I was laid up on the couch with Kitty watching Murder She Wrote. It's on Hallmark in the middle of the day and it's totally a guilty pleasure. I usually record it.
You can't honestly expect me to give up ALL of my vices.
-jafg
Monday, October 12, 2009
I Can Has Cheezburger
10/12/09
284.4 lbs
This weekend was uneventful. I did learn I'm not a dog person. Which is funny because I only got a cat to appease the need to get a dog. I didn't think apartment living would be good for a dog. Now, I can't imagine life without my cat. I heart him!
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284.4 lbs
This weekend was uneventful. I did learn I'm not a dog person. Which is funny because I only got a cat to appease the need to get a dog. I didn't think apartment living would be good for a dog. Now, I can't imagine life without my cat. I heart him!
Well, I did nothing on Friday night except watch True Blood Season Two. SAG has HBO and thus has HBO On Demand. I watched the entire season over the weekend. It was great. It's a little weird, but I didn't mind too much. I watched most of it on Friday night because I found it very difficult to sleep in a strange place. Even with a dog in the house.
Ok, I've been over to SAG's house plenty of times, even had dinner there a few. Remember the Butter with a side of Pasta dinner? Well, I couldn't pass up the chance to nose around her healthy place to see her food. That's right. I nosed. Guess what I found out. She has no less than 5 different kinds of Little Debbie snacks in her pantry! That and Chef Boy-R-Dee cans of stuff as well as a freezer full of things that make My Fat grow just reading their boxes at the grocery. There's tons of Mac-N-Cheese and other pasta products lying around too. It's pretty crazy. I see why she's so active now. She has to be. She's not nutritional in the food consumption department. She did tell me once that she works out to be able to eat the way she does, but I had no idea.
I don't know how I feel about this really. Am I jealous or disgusted? The latter would classify me in the "I'm a bit judgemental" department, but, I mean, damn. She is a working-out fool. I gotta say I really was hoping for some healthy food somewhere. Suppliments would have been good, even! But no. It's all crap. Like Totino's pizzas. I thought they were only drunk food, ya know? Food you eat when you're getting home after a night of merry-making and you forgot to stop at Waffle House. Apperantly not. Apperantly you can eat them for regular dinner, too. And Spaghetti-O's. With an Oatmeal Pie. Or a Coffee Dunkin' Stick.
I have to admit, though. I had to have an Oatmeal Pie. They're like my favorite.
-jafg
Friday, October 9, 2009
My Big Fat Wii Mii
10/09/09
43-44 BMI
That's right; BMI. Just keep reading.
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The really funny thing is that SAG was right there with me walking me through every step. Yeah. I was really laughing. I told her there was no way in hell I would disclose my weight. It asked me, but I got to hit next. Once it was done, it did a calculation based on my height (I'm 5'6" if you remember from the first post) and proudly announced my BMI. Great. Turns out I am like 43.8 or something like that. Turns out I'm supposed to be like 23.4 or something. I'm like practically double the BMI number I'm supposed to be. Nice. Oh, it also turns out that once you're all done, it takes your fat Wii Mii ass back to the main menu where you stand side-by-side next to a Skinny Athletic Wii Mii version of SAG. You'd think this would be the worst part of it. You'd think that it couldn't possibly more humiliating than this. You'd be wrong.
43-44 BMI
That's right; BMI. Just keep reading.
I'm dog-sitting this weekend. For SAG (Skinny Athletic Girl for those of you who are new to the JAFG storyline). Her dog is fantastic. Loves to play, doesn't jump on you when you walk into the room and also loves to be snuggled. AND is the softest dog you'll ever pet. Really. It's almost unnatural how soft this dog is. I don't have to spend every waking minute with her, but I am spending the night with her. Tonight and tomorrow night. That leaves a little bit of time to do nothing in an empty house. With just me and the dog. Since I'm dog-sitting, I visited last night to learn the food and outside routine of the pupster. SAG's an electronics fanatic so I also had to learn which of the 15 remotes works the TV.
SAG also has a Wii. Yea! I love Wii Bowling. It's awesome and somehow I make a strike almost every time. This is amazing since in the real world my bowling score is usually 43. She's got a few games, but what she has that I've been looking forward to most is Wii Fit. I learned how to power it up and since it was the first time I've ever used it, I had to create a Mii.
I've heard about these little bastards. They start out all cute and sweet and once you step on the balance board [insert some crescendo-ing computer sound indicating "increase" or "growth"] and then.....BAM! It turns you into a Fat Wii Mii. What the hell is that?!?! Even in a cartoon world I'm fat! I can't freakin' believe it. I didn't even have the option to lie. And I would have if I was given the chance.
The really funny thing is that SAG was right there with me walking me through every step. Yeah. I was really laughing. I told her there was no way in hell I would disclose my weight. It asked me, but I got to hit next. Once it was done, it did a calculation based on my height (I'm 5'6" if you remember from the first post) and proudly announced my BMI. Great. Turns out I am like 43.8 or something like that. Turns out I'm supposed to be like 23.4 or something. I'm like practically double the BMI number I'm supposed to be. Nice. Oh, it also turns out that once you're all done, it takes your fat Wii Mii ass back to the main menu where you stand side-by-side next to a Skinny Athletic Wii Mii version of SAG. You'd think this would be the worst part of it. You'd think that it couldn't possibly more humiliating than this. You'd be wrong. Once I have my little smiley fat and sassy Wii Mii created, we get move onto the balancing games. There's this one game where you try to hit soccer balls with your Mii head. I didn't quite grasp that concept and thought I was supposed to dodge the soccer balls. Obviously I didn't play a lot of sports as a child. Well, I finally figured out how to make my Mii move and hit balls. The damn game throws shoes and panda heads at your Mii, too. You're supposed to doge those. They're really the only thing I actually hit, or hit me, or whatever. It's a little twisted, I know. So I gave up on that after about 5 minutes and was introduced to the "Basic Stepping" program.
In this "Basic Stepping" program, there's the bunch of little mini Wii Miis on a stage and you're supposed to follow the footprints you see on the screen and step on the balance board. Apparently, it matters which foot you use. Like if they want you to use your right one, you're actually supposed to use your right one. Meh. It sounds like it'd be easy. It's not. I got all confused and only got it right when my feet weren't supposed to be on the balance board. You've gotta move side to side front to back it's damn confusing.
SAG decided to jump in and "show me how it's done". This is where it gets really bad. Remember how it knows my weight and BMI (it didn't show my weight, but I know it knows the damn thing). Well, it adapts to the levels of pressure that are supposed to be applied based on the person that standing on the thing. That means that skinny ass SAG with a BMI of like -2 had to practically jump up and down to get the board to recognize that she was on it! I've been humilitated by a video game. It'd be depressing if it weren't so damn funny.
It occurred to me as I got in my car and lit my cigarette, I just did some exercise. Hmm. Pretty cool.
-jafg
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Program...
10/07/09
287.0 lbs
Whateves. I had a birthday and did what I wanted. So, my present to myself? Weight Gain. Thanks, Me!
I've been travelling so that explains the radio silence last week. It appears, though, that I have two new fans since I've been gone. WooHoo! Welcome JAFG Newbies!
I travel for business regularly. Not like monthly or anything, but enough that I have fashionable matching luggage. I'm always travelling right around my birthday which can be fun, because it's a trip that Company pays for and it's usually in a great locale. I still pay for my own adult beverages. Most of the time, though, someone else is around to take care of that. Hey, I'm a single girl surrounded by a lot of traveling business guys. It's how it works.
I flew a different airline for the first time in a long time. I've been a Delta girl (Free Plug) for years. I traveled on Southwest (yet another Free Plug) this time which was pretty alright. They don't have real seat assignments. They assign you a letter group (a-c) and then a number (1-60) and make you board in that order. I purchased a bump in line for $10 so I was always one of the first 35 to board. This means you get a better shot at a good seat.
This also means someone gets stuck next to you, you don't get stuck next to someone. I hate walking down the aisle of a plane and seeing someone watch you and then realize you're about to squeeze your fat arse into the seat next to them. With this seating arrangement (or lack thereof), odds are someone's gonna choose the little old lady over the fat girl. I'm more likely to get an empty seat next to me. Proof positive that something good comes out of everything, even being JAFG.
Also, I get to struggle with the seatbelt all by myself. No one has to watch my face go red because it's cutting off the circulation to the upper part of my body. Deep Vein Thrombosis? Ha! I laugh at you! I have no blood running down to my lower extremities!
Then there's the arm rest. It tends to creep up as the flight progresses. Not because I'm moving it, mind you, but because my thigh fat is slowly seeping underneath it. So much so that about half way through the flight that middle person has to readjust him/herself and force it back down. That's not awkward.
I prefer traveling by myself. I would rather sit by a complete stranger that I can completely ignore (or dazzle with my bright and shiny personality if I feel like it) and not worry about ever seeing again once we all "deplane". That's the real way to go. I don't want to sit next to someone I know who has to pretend to ignore the fact that the seatbelt is one hair shy of being too small (I would never buy my jeans that tight) or the tray-table doesn't come all the way down and then face them on Monday Morning. Great. That's worse than someone walking in on you in the bathroom. Believe me, I know.
I did get hit on a few times on this trip. That's always a real ego booster. These folks are either "industry colleagues" or "industry vendors". The vendors are sales folk and Sales Folk are always up for a good time. Sales Folk are usually a good-lookin bunch and I do enjoy some good eye-candy. It's nice when we're "networking" after the conference meetings and they try to sell you stuff by buying you drinks. I'm such a conference junkie that most of them know me by now and forgo the sales and get right to the drinks. And flirting. I'm just heady enough to still think I'm the shit (No Offense, Jack). This may increase my pheromone output which says "It's ok to buy me a drink". Or maybe it's the fact that I actually say "It's ok to buy me a drink". Either, way, I'm getting a drink.
Now-a-days, I'm usually out with SAG and The Blondes and getting shoved aside by boys, so being out and about on my own turf really is good for boosting the soul. And the ego. I was actually asked to a room. That's right, boys and girls, I was really hit on. He's somebody I know and somebody I could do business with one day, so that's a big Negatory on the invite. But, it was fun and funny. He was drunk and I was sober(ish). He's good looking and I was amused. It almost made the airplane ride worth it! But not really.
Happy Birthday!
-jafg
287.0 lbs
Whateves. I had a birthday and did what I wanted. So, my present to myself? Weight Gain. Thanks, Me!
I've been travelling so that explains the radio silence last week. It appears, though, that I have two new fans since I've been gone. WooHoo! Welcome JAFG Newbies!
I travel for business regularly. Not like monthly or anything, but enough that I have fashionable matching luggage. I'm always travelling right around my birthday which can be fun, because it's a trip that Company pays for and it's usually in a great locale. I still pay for my own adult beverages. Most of the time, though, someone else is around to take care of that. Hey, I'm a single girl surrounded by a lot of traveling business guys. It's how it works.
I flew a different airline for the first time in a long time. I've been a Delta girl (Free Plug) for years. I traveled on Southwest (yet another Free Plug) this time which was pretty alright. They don't have real seat assignments. They assign you a letter group (a-c) and then a number (1-60) and make you board in that order. I purchased a bump in line for $10 so I was always one of the first 35 to board. This means you get a better shot at a good seat.
This also means someone gets stuck next to you, you don't get stuck next to someone. I hate walking down the aisle of a plane and seeing someone watch you and then realize you're about to squeeze your fat arse into the seat next to them. With this seating arrangement (or lack thereof), odds are someone's gonna choose the little old lady over the fat girl. I'm more likely to get an empty seat next to me. Proof positive that something good comes out of everything, even being JAFG.
Also, I get to struggle with the seatbelt all by myself. No one has to watch my face go red because it's cutting off the circulation to the upper part of my body. Deep Vein Thrombosis? Ha! I laugh at you! I have no blood running down to my lower extremities!
Then there's the arm rest. It tends to creep up as the flight progresses. Not because I'm moving it, mind you, but because my thigh fat is slowly seeping underneath it. So much so that about half way through the flight that middle person has to readjust him/herself and force it back down. That's not awkward.
I prefer traveling by myself. I would rather sit by a complete stranger that I can completely ignore (or dazzle with my bright and shiny personality if I feel like it) and not worry about ever seeing again once we all "deplane". That's the real way to go. I don't want to sit next to someone I know who has to pretend to ignore the fact that the seatbelt is one hair shy of being too small (I would never buy my jeans that tight) or the tray-table doesn't come all the way down and then face them on Monday Morning. Great. That's worse than someone walking in on you in the bathroom. Believe me, I know.
I did get hit on a few times on this trip. That's always a real ego booster. These folks are either "industry colleagues" or "industry vendors". The vendors are sales folk and Sales Folk are always up for a good time. Sales Folk are usually a good-lookin bunch and I do enjoy some good eye-candy. It's nice when we're "networking" after the conference meetings and they try to sell you stuff by buying you drinks. I'm such a conference junkie that most of them know me by now and forgo the sales and get right to the drinks. And flirting. I'm just heady enough to still think I'm the shit (No Offense, Jack). This may increase my pheromone output which says "It's ok to buy me a drink". Or maybe it's the fact that I actually say "It's ok to buy me a drink". Either, way, I'm getting a drink.
Now-a-days, I'm usually out with SAG and The Blondes and getting shoved aside by boys, so being out and about on my own turf really is good for boosting the soul. And the ego. I was actually asked to a room. That's right, boys and girls, I was really hit on. He's somebody I know and somebody I could do business with one day, so that's a big Negatory on the invite. But, it was fun and funny. He was drunk and I was sober(ish). He's good looking and I was amused. It almost made the airplane ride worth it! But not really.
Happy Birthday!
-jafg
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