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
Showing posts with label RANT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RANT. Show all posts
Monday, December 20, 2010
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
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Hate Side of My Love/Hate Relationship With The World Of Weight
05/21/10
278.2 lbs
*Warning: Cranky JAFG Ahead*
I'm really not sure what to think. Since this little bloggin space's inception, I've not been this low on the scale.
I'm freakin happy! BUT...I have this overwhelming need to walk around and whisper I've lost 18 lbs because if I say it too loud, it might jinx it or something. Like when people whisper *cancer* or *prison*.
So yeah, I've lost 18 lbs. It's not a fluke like a 3 lbs fluctuation could be. It's 18 solid lbs. If someone asks me how I'm doing it I get to tell them "I'm doing it the old fashioned way: Healthy Eating and Exercise". No one wants to hear that, but it's the truth. Now, IF there were some magic way to do this while being able to eat whatever whenever I wanted, and I didn't have to exercise, then, well, I bet I'd be doing that instead.
My life's been very boring as of late. I have no funny stories to share or even any to pull from in the right recent past. I'm watching what I do for food religiously and tracking it all on myfitnesspal. I'm weighing myself every morning and, this week, have just been sitting on my couch watching tv or checking FB at night.
I love routine and I hate it too! Right now, I'm totally in an I-hate-it phase. I'm in a rut/funk/ditch/somethin and I need a change. I've really had to be a grown-up at work which, translated, means I'm not doing anything fun. I need to blow off some steam. I had plans to visit BFF and Her Hubbie this weekend, but had to cancel that. Grr. I've been disconnected from SAG and BB because everyone is just busy with l-i-f-e right now.
On a good note, I am going to Beach Town the first week of June. I'll be there for work, but I'm bringing BFF (it'll just be her and me) and we're staying in a fantab hotel ON the beach. Even when I lived there, I never stayed ON the beach. Well, there was that one Halloween weekend and then that random night one summer, but you know what I mean. I'm really looking forward to that!
I've strained my knee from pushing too hard through HHH class and bouncing around and all that. You know how walking down the stairs is usually the easiest thing in the world? Yeah. Not for me. Not right now. I hate this.
Turns out all those crunching sounds that I've heard in my knee for years has been what they call runner's knee. Commonplace among runners and overweight people. Well, I'm not in the runner category in case you didn't know. Actually, while I've had this mild, unchecked version of this pain in my knee for at least two years back that I can remember, since I started exercising in like 0-to-60 mode I've had a serious flare-up.
It's treatable with stretches and "quad stengthening" and a brace and ice and Motrin which is fantastic (seriously-it's a mostly free treatment plan). I also will actually have to bounce LESS in HHH class and focus on not too much resistnence on my favorite elliptical. I can't avoid The Stairs at least twice a day; however, I've been using the railing to ease things up a bit. While I've really noticed that my knee pain has eased up as the week of inactivity I feel like the rest of me is rusting inside. I also miss the extra calories that exersice affords me. Trying to keep my caloric intake under 1300 is a real pain in the ass.
I'm exercising tonight, damnit
-jafg
278.2 lbs
*Warning: Cranky JAFG Ahead*
I'm really not sure what to think. Since this little bloggin space's inception, I've not been this low on the scale.
I'm freakin happy! BUT...I have this overwhelming need to walk around and whisper I've lost 18 lbs because if I say it too loud, it might jinx it or something. Like when people whisper *cancer* or *prison*.
So yeah, I've lost 18 lbs. It's not a fluke like a 3 lbs fluctuation could be. It's 18 solid lbs. If someone asks me how I'm doing it I get to tell them "I'm doing it the old fashioned way: Healthy Eating and Exercise". No one wants to hear that, but it's the truth. Now, IF there were some magic way to do this while being able to eat whatever whenever I wanted, and I didn't have to exercise, then, well, I bet I'd be doing that instead.
My life's been very boring as of late. I have no funny stories to share or even any to pull from in the right recent past. I'm watching what I do for food religiously and tracking it all on myfitnesspal. I'm weighing myself every morning and, this week, have just been sitting on my couch watching tv or checking FB at night.
I love routine and I hate it too! Right now, I'm totally in an I-hate-it phase. I'm in a rut/funk/ditch/somethin and I need a change. I've really had to be a grown-up at work which, translated, means I'm not doing anything fun. I need to blow off some steam. I had plans to visit BFF and Her Hubbie this weekend, but had to cancel that. Grr. I've been disconnected from SAG and BB because everyone is just busy with l-i-f-e right now.
On a good note, I am going to Beach Town the first week of June. I'll be there for work, but I'm bringing BFF (it'll just be her and me) and we're staying in a fantab hotel ON the beach. Even when I lived there, I never stayed ON the beach. Well, there was that one Halloween weekend and then that random night one summer, but you know what I mean. I'm really looking forward to that!
I've strained my knee from pushing too hard through HHH class and bouncing around and all that. You know how walking down the stairs is usually the easiest thing in the world? Yeah. Not for me. Not right now. I hate this.
Turns out all those crunching sounds that I've heard in my knee for years has been what they call runner's knee. Commonplace among runners and overweight people. Well, I'm not in the runner category in case you didn't know. Actually, while I've had this mild, unchecked version of this pain in my knee for at least two years back that I can remember, since I started exercising in like 0-to-60 mode I've had a serious flare-up.
It's treatable with stretches and "quad stengthening" and a brace and ice and Motrin which is fantastic (seriously-it's a mostly free treatment plan). I also will actually have to bounce LESS in HHH class and focus on not too much resistnence on my favorite elliptical. I can't avoid The Stairs at least twice a day; however, I've been using the railing to ease things up a bit. While I've really noticed that my knee pain has eased up as the week of inactivity I feel like the rest of me is rusting inside. I also miss the extra calories that exersice affords me. Trying to keep my caloric intake under 1300 is a real pain in the ass.
I'm exercising tonight, damnit
-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
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
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Over The Shoulder Boulder Holder
08/12/09
281.4 lbs
I usually work on this blog during my "lunchtime". I had a lot of meetings and stuff today so now's my break. Talk about some withdrawals. I've missed you, my people. I may even have to start writing on the weekends. I heart you all that much.
So. I've been thinking about my bras. And my breasts. And the fact that I really don't care much for either. I started wearing a bra when I was in 4th grade. There was no training period. I woke up one morning and BOOM! There they were. It's been down hill ever since.
My bra is very uncomfortable today. My bra is very uncomfortable most days. I have two different types of bras. I have a cotton-underwire type of bra that has no defined cup shape. I then have a defined cup/underwire plunge-type of bra that I wear. Cotton Bra is worn after work and on weekends when I'm not going anywhere. It really provides little support but The Girls do have some coverage and don't hang down with no direction. Plunge Bra is for every other time of my life.
I get my bras at LB (for those of you who don't speak 'fat girl' slang, that's short for Lane Bryant). I buy the same style. I haven't branched out in I don't know how long. Like I said, I get the kind that plunge (\/). I'm not gonna lie here, I embrace my cleavage. I mean, in the right Bra/Top combo,I look well-defined. It's completely false advertising because everything's pulled up to the front, but I don't care. I feel better when I walk into a place. I'm not Elvira, I do have a sense of modesty and taste, but I like to accenuate my femininity (Wikipedia has an entry for that, too). Plus, Plunge Bra makes me feel like I have on pretty lingerie. Especially when my bottoms match my tops.
I've been watching my bra-size slowly creep higher over the past few years. I don't mean cup-size, either. I was looking at LB online and saw some "full coverage" bras. Honestly, I don't think I have enough BOOB for these bras. I've got my fair share of the side-boob, but not real BOOB-boob. This is the reason a lot of the "plus size" tops don't look great on me. I'm not that top-heavy! I get a little frustrated because fat girls with average sized boobs need tops too! And bras! THAT ARE COMFORTABLE!
I was watching More To Love last night. I tweeted a lot about it which relieved a lot of the immediate aggravation that rises from that show. Anyway, speaking from a completely plutonic perspective, those girls got a lot goin' on in the Bra department. I'm not jealous of the BOOB-factor, but I am jealous of the clothes they can wear that I can't. I miss cute clothes. Tops, especially. I miss skirts, too, but I dislike friction more. But, that's a story for another day.
-jafg
281.4 lbs
I usually work on this blog during my "lunchtime". I had a lot of meetings and stuff today so now's my break. Talk about some withdrawals. I've missed you, my people. I may even have to start writing on the weekends. I heart you all that much.
So. I've been thinking about my bras. And my breasts. And the fact that I really don't care much for either. I started wearing a bra when I was in 4th grade. There was no training period. I woke up one morning and BOOM! There they were. It's been down hill ever since.
My bra is very uncomfortable today. My bra is very uncomfortable most days. I have two different types of bras. I have a cotton-underwire type of bra that has no defined cup shape. I then have a defined cup/underwire plunge-type of bra that I wear. Cotton Bra is worn after work and on weekends when I'm not going anywhere. It really provides little support but The Girls do have some coverage and don't hang down with no direction. Plunge Bra is for every other time of my life.
I get my bras at LB (for those of you who don't speak 'fat girl' slang, that's short for Lane Bryant). I buy the same style. I haven't branched out in I don't know how long. Like I said, I get the kind that plunge (\/). I'm not gonna lie here, I embrace my cleavage. I mean, in the right Bra/Top combo,I look well-defined. It's completely false advertising because everything's pulled up to the front, but I don't care. I feel better when I walk into a place. I'm not Elvira, I do have a sense of modesty and taste, but I like to accenuate my femininity (Wikipedia has an entry for that, too). Plus, Plunge Bra makes me feel like I have on pretty lingerie. Especially when my bottoms match my tops.
I've been watching my bra-size slowly creep higher over the past few years. I don't mean cup-size, either. I was looking at LB online and saw some "full coverage" bras. Honestly, I don't think I have enough BOOB for these bras. I've got my fair share of the side-boob, but not real BOOB-boob. This is the reason a lot of the "plus size" tops don't look great on me. I'm not that top-heavy! I get a little frustrated because fat girls with average sized boobs need tops too! And bras! THAT ARE COMFORTABLE!
I was watching More To Love last night. I tweeted a lot about it which relieved a lot of the immediate aggravation that rises from that show. Anyway, speaking from a completely plutonic perspective, those girls got a lot goin' on in the Bra department. I'm not jealous of the BOOB-factor, but I am jealous of the clothes they can wear that I can't. I miss cute clothes. Tops, especially. I miss skirts, too, but I dislike friction more. But, that's a story for another day.
-jafg
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Jiggle In the Middle
08/05/09
286.0 lbs.
I had a fantab low-fat taco salad last night. I did use lean ground beef, normally I'd use ground turkey breast, though. I had a small helping of organic blue corn chips, fresh tomatoes, and yummie romane lettuce. It was great! I even made my own taco seasoning which did not include salt so I can control my sodium intake. This is important since I've noticed that my ankles can get a little poofy at times.
This disturbs me. Of all the parts of my body classified as poofy, my ankles have never been one. I don't know if it's because I'm "getting older" or if it's because I've never been this weighty before, but the fact still remains that the ankles are growing at times. I am trying to drink more water and hope that less rides in the elevator are helping.
Speaking of poofy parts and more movement, I want to talk about walking down the stairs. All of us "fat girls" are proportioned differently. Some are top heavy, some have more junk in the trunk, some are just plain packed in from head to toe. I'm of the latter persuasion. To top it off, I've got a lot of jiggle in the middle. Like that? I just made it up. Pretty cute if I do say so myself. I don't know about the rest of you, but I have to look down when I walk down the stairs. It isn't a pretty sight. My jiggle takes on momentum and by time I reach the bottom, I feel like I could be knocking into both sides of the stair rails! Not literally, but damn, close enough. When I laugh I have that bowl full of jello. I love laughing! I hate jiggling! Egad, what a dilema! I let laughing win out every time, though. I enjoy it too much. Back to the stairs...I will keep walking the stairs. I can't wait till I'm looking down and see just a slight vibration. This side-to-side stuff is just awful.
I watched Fox's "More To Love" again last night. I haven't yelled more at the TV since Wes was still on "The Bachelorette". Like, really. My blood pressure is going up just thinking about this show. First of all, my heart is going out to most of these young women. I really am saddened that they're so young and have so much sadness from being overweight. I'm fortunate to be able to have a healthy self esteem and still be "another fat girl" (I want to lose weight, remember?). Someone should spend some time with these ladies and show them that worth does not come from the size of your ass. Or the amount of jiggle in your middle. It's part of what makes you 'you', but it isn't who 'you' are. There's a difference! Bonnie is great. I'm not a fan of her Kat Von D style (I think only Kat Von D rocks that at an A+ level), but she is very comfortable in her skin. Go Bonnie! That's what it's about! Alright then, enough of the Rant.
Oh yeah! I started a Twitter account! Follow me @another_fatgirl. Then you can learn about my daily fights with Mr. Pibb and Snicker Bar. These are mean folk.
It's pretty ugly in my world.
-jafg
286.0 lbs.
I had a fantab low-fat taco salad last night. I did use lean ground beef, normally I'd use ground turkey breast, though. I had a small helping of organic blue corn chips, fresh tomatoes, and yummie romane lettuce. It was great! I even made my own taco seasoning which did not include salt so I can control my sodium intake. This is important since I've noticed that my ankles can get a little poofy at times.
This disturbs me. Of all the parts of my body classified as poofy, my ankles have never been one. I don't know if it's because I'm "getting older" or if it's because I've never been this weighty before, but the fact still remains that the ankles are growing at times. I am trying to drink more water and hope that less rides in the elevator are helping.
Speaking of poofy parts and more movement, I want to talk about walking down the stairs. All of us "fat girls" are proportioned differently. Some are top heavy, some have more junk in the trunk, some are just plain packed in from head to toe. I'm of the latter persuasion. To top it off, I've got a lot of jiggle in the middle. Like that? I just made it up. Pretty cute if I do say so myself. I don't know about the rest of you, but I have to look down when I walk down the stairs. It isn't a pretty sight. My jiggle takes on momentum and by time I reach the bottom, I feel like I could be knocking into both sides of the stair rails! Not literally, but damn, close enough. When I laugh I have that bowl full of jello. I love laughing! I hate jiggling! Egad, what a dilema! I let laughing win out every time, though. I enjoy it too much. Back to the stairs...I will keep walking the stairs. I can't wait till I'm looking down and see just a slight vibration. This side-to-side stuff is just awful.
I watched Fox's "More To Love" again last night. I haven't yelled more at the TV since Wes was still on "The Bachelorette". Like, really. My blood pressure is going up just thinking about this show. First of all, my heart is going out to most of these young women. I really am saddened that they're so young and have so much sadness from being overweight. I'm fortunate to be able to have a healthy self esteem and still be "another fat girl" (I want to lose weight, remember?). Someone should spend some time with these ladies and show them that worth does not come from the size of your ass. Or the amount of jiggle in your middle. It's part of what makes you 'you', but it isn't who 'you' are. There's a difference! Bonnie is great. I'm not a fan of her Kat Von D style (I think only Kat Von D rocks that at an A+ level), but she is very comfortable in her skin. Go Bonnie! That's what it's about! Alright then, enough of the Rant.
Oh yeah! I started a Twitter account! Follow me @another_fatgirl. Then you can learn about my daily fights with Mr. Pibb and Snicker Bar. These are mean folk.
It's pretty ugly in my world.
-jafg
Friday, July 31, 2009
From Shoots and Ladders to Elevators and Stairs
07/31/09
weight: 284.3 lbs
That's from Wednesday. I haven't weighed myself since then. It looks like I've lost about 3 lbs since I started this. Maybe accountability even on an anonymous level really does do good!
So life's been a bit busy over the past few days. I haven't written since Tuesday which means that less than a week into this I've already started slacking off. Great. On a somewhat related note, I do have one comment on my blog-WooHoo! I have a reader! Motivate-Motivate-Motivate!
I did some research this week and watched Fox's "More to Love". It's a plus-sized--boy--meets--lots'o--plus-sized--girls reality/dating/love/show thing. Really, it's a train wreck waiting to happen. I occasionally get sucked into the world of reality dating shows. I watched ABC's "The Batchelorette" this past season. I totally hated Wes. He finallty got kicked off; the bastard.
Anyway, the point is, while everyone ends up making out on these shows, it doesn't happen on the first night. This guy had the cajones to make out with two girls on the first night. One of which while he was sitting next to another girl! Talk about lack of self-respect. It's one thing to lack self-esteem, ladies, it's another to lack self-respect! Just because you're insecure about your weight DOES NOT mean you have to mac on some loser. The show is supposedly about finding your life-mate. Meh. Yeah, right. I'll keep on watching though.
On to why I write today. I have the opportunity to get a little extra "not even trying" exercise in at work. I work on the second floor and take the elevator most of the time. I smoke so there's some up and down action going on during the day. (That sounds a lot worse than I meant it to sound. Sorry Mom!) It occurs to me that I am passing up the chance to burn a few extra calories and maybe shed some of the back-side. I really think about it a lot, truthfully. I think about the stairs when I am heading down in the elevator, heading back up in the elevator, have coffee in my hands, running in from the car when I first get here.... Actually, I run up the stairs quite a bit in the morning. Every second counts. I've decided to start using the stairs no matter what. Coffee is not an excuse! I need to move on to the next phase of this social experiment. ACTION. First we have MOTIVATION. Now I need ACTION.
I think I'll start on Monday.
-jafg
weight: 284.3 lbs
That's from Wednesday. I haven't weighed myself since then. It looks like I've lost about 3 lbs since I started this. Maybe accountability even on an anonymous level really does do good!
So life's been a bit busy over the past few days. I haven't written since Tuesday which means that less than a week into this I've already started slacking off. Great. On a somewhat related note, I do have one comment on my blog-WooHoo! I have a reader! Motivate-Motivate-Motivate!
I did some research this week and watched Fox's "More to Love". It's a plus-sized--boy--meets--lots'o--plus-sized--girls reality/dating/love/show thing. Really, it's a train wreck waiting to happen. I occasionally get sucked into the world of reality dating shows. I watched ABC's "The Batchelorette" this past season. I totally hated Wes. He finallty got kicked off; the bastard.
Anyway, the point is, while everyone ends up making out on these shows, it doesn't happen on the first night. This guy had the cajones to make out with two girls on the first night. One of which while he was sitting next to another girl! Talk about lack of self-respect. It's one thing to lack self-esteem, ladies, it's another to lack self-respect! Just because you're insecure about your weight DOES NOT mean you have to mac on some loser. The show is supposedly about finding your life-mate. Meh. Yeah, right. I'll keep on watching though.
On to why I write today. I have the opportunity to get a little extra "not even trying" exercise in at work. I work on the second floor and take the elevator most of the time. I smoke so there's some up and down action going on during the day. (That sounds a lot worse than I meant it to sound. Sorry Mom!) It occurs to me that I am passing up the chance to burn a few extra calories and maybe shed some of the back-side. I really think about it a lot, truthfully. I think about the stairs when I am heading down in the elevator, heading back up in the elevator, have coffee in my hands, running in from the car when I first get here.... Actually, I run up the stairs quite a bit in the morning. Every second counts. I've decided to start using the stairs no matter what. Coffee is not an excuse! I need to move on to the next phase of this social experiment. ACTION. First we have MOTIVATION. Now I need ACTION.
I think I'll start on Monday.
-jafg
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