Friday, September 25, 2009

Update From the Battlefield


285.4 lbs (it's only been a few hours)

I just realized that it's been exactly 2 months since I started this blog.  That doesn't make me feel better about yesterday.

However, I did get a comment to my post from my hero Jack Sh*t today. Apparently stalking really is a viable option for attention!

Here's hoping for a better tomorrow.


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I Think Therefore I Can't?


285.4 lbs

Ok.  So if you follow me on Twitter, you already know I suck.  If you don't follow me on Twitter, well then....

I suck.

I've been planning to make it to the Gym at my complex.  It's free, or included with the Rent or whatever.  It's right where I pull into my complex and is a short walk away from my 53 steps.  I drive by it in the morning and at night.  Every Day.  Weekend days could be more or less often, but you know what I mean.

I'm so mad at myself, I can feel my pulse quickening as I type.

I brought workout clothes to change into before I left for work.  I changed into those clothes before I left work.  I sat through way too much traffic-still have no idea what that was about-and when I got to my complex the gym parking lot was FULL.  REALLY full. 

My blood ran cold.  I couldn't do it.  It wasn't just My Fat that shrunk back in was my whole mental being.  I was terrified of walking into that gym and facing all those people.  It was worse than when I had my first "girl doctor" visit.  I don't know about the rest of you ladies, but that was pretty emotionally scarring.  Not a big deal now, but damn,  "You're gonna put that where?"

Let me just lay it all out there for you...

It started at the top of my head. I felt this almost painful tingly sensation roll down my whole body and then my breathing went weird.

Allow me to interject some personal history here...I'm a witty, sardonic, overall emotionally healthy person with normal shit to deal with on a regular basis.  But I haven't always "had it all together".  I used to suffer from debilitating panic and anxiety attacks that would hit me at the most inconvenient moments like driving down the road.  I'd have to pull over and just sit in my car falling apart and hyperventilating until I could get myself calm and continue to drive.  It would take 20-30 minutes.  It's exhausting too.  Medication helps a lot.  Needless to say, this hasn't happened to me since I was 24.  Really? Hey-That's 10 years.  That's pretty damn good now that I think about it. 

But it happened last night.

I can recognize the symptoms.  The tingling and numbing sensation, the blurry vision, the beginning stages of hyperventilation. All of it.  It was not pretty.  I had to sit in my car for about 10 minutes before I could make it up the stairs.  Every movement was deliberate.  Turning off the car.  Pulling the keys out of the ingition.  Opening the door.  Gathering my purse and clothes. Getting out of the car.  Closing the door. Walking up the stairs.  I counted them again.  Opening up the door to home.  As soon as I got the door closed, it happened.  I went into full freakout mode.  It's hard to talk yourself down.  To regain control of your breathing.  To slow your heart rate.  To basically feel human again.

After all was said and done, I took my emergency stash of medication left over from the big move in January (I moved to a new city/state where I knew nothing/no one for a new job and was just a tinsy bit stressted), Twittered about my world class fail, and went to bed to snuggle with the kitty. 

Then I watched Grey's Anatomy  It was the most depressing show ever.

So, that was my evening....How was yours?


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Thursday, September 24, 2009

Enter At Your Own Risk


285.5 lbs

Yikes.  I brought my workout clothes to work.  I even remembered to pack matching socks and my tennies.  Oh yeah, I did finally find my other tennie (see my flip-flop post).

I'm trying to take a break from smoking today so that I can really do ok on whatever treadmill-like machine I'll be on (I really hope I'm alone in there...).  I did that by not stopping to buy another pack last night.  What the hell was I thinking?! It's killing me.  I'm also trying to drink plenty of water and not snack at all. 

So picture it, my friends....A nicotine-fiending, food-crazed, exercise-phobia-facing woman sitting at the keyboard. 

All for the purpose of working out in public. Where people can see me. Sweating.  In Shorts. Where I Live.

Holy crap.  I need a cigarette!!

Be afraid.  Be very, very afraid.


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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

My Something Plan


???.? lbs

I'm eating Snicker Bar and Bite-Size Twix right now.  And it is bad...but oh so good.

I bought Healthy Choice meals for lunches last Friday because they were on sale, 4-$10.  They were cheaper than Lean Cuisine, but they don't taste so great.  Be warned.  Sometimes, you get what you pay for.  Kinda like trash bags.  Don't skimp on wimpy bags.  Really.  Don't do it.  Just say NO.

So I've been reading blogs like I normally do, mostly because I didn't feel like working and I needed to catch up, and I noticed a running theme:  Everybody's got something going on.  There's newbies (of which I am one, kinda) and then there are those that are several months into this whole "Change Your Damn Life" cycle and then there's those that are the Gurus, the Zen Masters, who we all love and hate at the same time.  But they're all doing something.

I want to do something.  Constantly amusing myself with my own witty banter only goes so far.  And talking about me me me all time does nothing for the rest of the world despite popular belief (or my own, or whatever).  It's really making My Fat's ego get pretty large too.  Just so you know, when your Fat's ego grows, so do your thighs, arse, and the jiggle in the middle.  Damnit. 

Overall, My Fat is feeling pretty confident right about now.  Well, I have a secret.  I'm devising my own Something plan as we speak. Or I type and you read.  You know what I mean.  Remember that gym I mentioned I drive by every day?  Well, tomorrow I'm packing clothes to change into before I leave work and going straight there before I even get home.  Don't tell My Fat, though.  She may talk me out of it.

I'm contemplating responses to the rationalizations My Fat will present tomorrow.  I'm wondering if it'll be like the 5 stages of grief....

My Fat:  You're the problem, not me.  I'm cuddly, soft, and make a great pillow for the kitty.

Me:  Yeah, I can't deny the pillow for the kitty part.  Wait...don't deflect with the kitty!  We're both the problem!  My lack of will power and your sense of overindulgence!

My Fat:  You suck!

Me:  YOU suck!

My Fat:  Why don't we just go feed the kitty first, and then go for a walk around the neighborhood?  Why do we have to start with the Gym?

Me:  Nope.  Despite what the kitty thinks, he won't starve if I'm 30 minutes later getting home.  Stop bringing up the kitty.

My Fat:  Why try?  I can't  turn into lean muscle.  It's impossible.  I'm going to be wabbly bits forever. 

Me:  Wabbly bits have to wabble before they'll stop wabbling.  Even the reality shows take time to film.  We've shed about 5 lbs since we started and we're really not even doing anything right now!

My Fat:  No, I'm not ever going to accept this.  I mean it.  Really.

Me:  That's too bad, because it's gotta happen.  You're not in charge, I am.

[Long Pause]

Me:   I wonder if I should shave my legs. 

My Fat:  Yeah, probably so. 

Both of us:  Damnit.


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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

But I Didn't Post


???.? lbs

I can't even provide a good estimation for you today, boys and girls.

I travel in a week.  Travel days suck.  We'll see.

As you can tell, I've been silent on the bloggin front for awhile.  Fuhgeddabout the weekend posting I was so planning on doing this weekend.  Totally didn't happen in case you didn't know.  Crap.  I couldn't even get motivated to sit on my arse and type in a blog this weekend. I did get some things done around the abode which have been neglected since company last weekend.  It was great.  But I didn't post.

Friday I went grocery shopping on my lunch.  I bought Mac 'n' Cheese and Fried Veggie Sticks from the "hotbar" and that was my lunch.  I am very proud to say, though, that I did not buy the Blue Box MnC which often times can find its way into my grocery cart.  It's a guilty pleasure of mine.  Like cereal at night.  I eat cereal like ice cream.  I try to buy Kashi most of the time, but sometimes Golden Grahams or Lucky Charms come to visit.  I also don't eat cereal in a bowl, I eat it from a coffee cup, like my ice cream.  Which I haven't bought in a while.  Yea me!

Cereal and ice cream got me going off on a tangent...

As I was saying, I went grocery shopping on Friday during my lunch break.  This was strategic since the grocery by work was having the best of the sales and I didn't want to grocery-hop this time.  I got bone-in chicken breasts and drum sticks.  Dark meat isn't the healthiest, but baked, it's still not too bad.  My freezer is stocked with chicken parts.  Yum. 

I also got the lean ground chuck which I used some of to make Tacos on Saturday.  I like to get the really lean ground beef like the 94%-6% ratio.  I couldn't find it and Grocery was having a good sale on the family pack "lean" ground chuck.  Turns out this stuff isn't so lean.  The ratio is like 85%-15%.  Yikes.  I cooked the hell out of it, and then drained it off and rinsed the hell out of it, too.  I hope that helped.  I'd like to think it did. 

Anyway, I did this grocery shopping on Friday because I felt a need to unplug coming on.  That means cell phones and computers off, My Friends.  I didn't want to venture out from the apartment once I got home. I like those weekends as much as I like the very sociable weekends.  It was great. But I didn't post.

I'm not lazy when these moods strike, it's almost the opposite.  I start "nesting", know what I mean?  I clean, vaccuum, wash dishes, organize piles, wash clothes, redecorate, that sort of thing.  Most people probably do these on a very regular basis, I do it just enough to make the house livable chaos.  Sometimes, though, toilets just need to be scrubbed.  So I get busy.  This also means, that I'm most likely not going to change out of the jammies until about 6:00pm and then it's just to feel like I got dressed that day. 

I started washing clothes, sheets, towels, and such Friday when I got home.  After I walked up The Stairs twice with damn groceries.  That sucked.  Anyway, my washer was going all weekend (not contsantly, mind you, but I did wash all weekend).  I vaccummed up the bedroom, dusted a bit, and watched Movies on Demand.  It was great. But I didn't post. 

I didn't do the one thing that I wanted to which was try to keep motivated about weight stuff, instead, I unplugged from it.  I was active, I moved, I wasn't just glued to my couch, but I didn't lose poundage this weekend either.  I most likely gained.  I'll be confirming that tomorrow. 

I always drive by the complex gym on my way home and have really started to feel guilty about not being in there.  I've got to do something.  I've got to take action.  I'm running out of excuses to talk about me and my fat and it's starting to weigh on me!  Egad!  Now I have emotional weight, too!?  What the hell?!  My ass isn't enough for me to carry around?!?! 

Something's gotta give here.

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Thursday, September 17, 2009

I Think I Can Do This


284.2 lbs

That's a 5 lb gain in as many days.  Damnit.

I have a weak constitution when it comes to fun times with friends.  Fat girls just wanna have fun!  At least this one does.  I so love my social time.  I love spending time out with old friends most of all.  Like this weekend.  My BFF has been in my life since I was 15 yrs old.  I'll be 34 in a few short weeks.  That's 19 years of solid friendship, People.  She's been there through thick and thin.  And I totally meant that as a pun, too.

I came out of the fat closet to her this weekend and told her about my bloggin.  She already knew I was fat.  It was scary and exciting all at the same time.  We celebrated by weighing ourselves all weekend.  Well, BFF and Her-Hubbie did, not me.  I figured I'd wait for the shocking results on Monday.  Yeah, shocker. Anyway, if BFF's reading this, SHOUT OUT!  I HEART YOU!

I've been off the bloggin circuit since Friday.  I had a lot of catching up to do.  I laughed, I cried, you know, the usual.  I usually take weekends off, but I'm wondering if I otta start bloggin on the weekends to help stay on track.  Especially when I DO have company or social time.  I will still have to avoid Twitter because no one should drink and text, but I think I'll make more effort to jump into my virtual life on the weekends too.

It's been a month and the only thing consistent here is a steady stream of consiousness.  That's not too hard because I'm usually focused on me, but I really really want to lose weight.  Like really. I want to be bloggin to other fat girls and coaching them through it and telling them they can do it because I did.  I want to glimpse the future of a thin me. [pausing for that glimpse]  Nothing comes to mind.  So, I'm melanchol-i-ly (I just made that word up, feel free to use it) reading over the blogs and secretly hating everyone who's made so much progress in the same amount of time that I've made none, and I come across a post from my favorite Blog-Comic Jack Sh*t Gettin' Fit

He's my most favoritest smartass;  after me, of course. If you haven't meandered over to his blog and become a sh*thead convert, then you're really missing out.  He's got like 100,000,000 followers or something like that, so you  probably have, but I'm just sayin. If you're one of the two people left on Earth that hasn't read him before, you should get on it.

Rarely do I read something from The Sh*tter where there's anything serious or straight-faced, but yesterday's was different. I Think You Can Do This It's awesome.  Motivational, inspirational, and most of all, not too sappy.  Here's my homage to that post. (That means I've changed a few things around so it looks different and not like I'm a copycat).

Today I'm racked with doubt about whether or not I'm ever going to drop these pounds. At times I think this is a goal that I'm never going to be able to accomplish.

For what it’s worth, I think I'm gonna do it.

I think I've got this.

What gives me such sure-fire confidence that this is my time?

I think I want it. Of course I want it. Why else would I be here, scouring the internet for information on losing weight and getting healthy? I’m just getting started, laying the groundwork, whatever. But I’m here. I  struggled with weight my whole life and had ups and downs. But, I’m still at it.  I haven’t given up, and that’s one of the most basic, fundamental reasons why I am going to make it.

I think I know what I need to do. I do–that point’s not even up for debate. All the information I need is either in my brain or at my fingertips. I may not be heeding it every day, may not be following my own game plan, but that’s not because I don’t know any better. I know better, and one day (and one day soon) I’m going to wake up to the fact that I know better. Maybe I already have.

I think I deserve it. Don’t get the feeling that I think I’m extra special (although, I do feel like I’m extra special). I think everyone deserves it. Everyone deserves to be healthy, to be fit and to feel good about themselves. It’s a basic human right, and it’s time I reclaimed what is rightfully mine.

I think nothing’s stopping me… but me. I can blame the job, the kitty, the friends, the financial situation… I can blame anything I want, but I have to understand that it’s me that dug this hole that I’m standing at the bottom of it and it’s me that’s going to eventually have to put that shovel down and decide that it’s time to start climbing. I hate climbing. But I’ve gotta do it.

I think it’s time. I mean that, I think it’s time right now. I mean right this very second. Excuses are for the weak, and I am anything but weak. I’m strong-willed, and I know that if I apply myself… I mean really give it my all… this is a journey that I will be successful with.

One month ago I stood on my balcony and got fed up with being just another fat girl. It’s a miserable way to feel.  I looked in a mirror and could no longer face the image staring back at me. I wasn’t so mad at what I’d done to myself; I was mad at what I was continuing to do to myself. Since I can appreciate the difference… well, that’s one more reason why I’m going to make this change in myself.

Because that’s the thing: we’re not chained to the person we are. There’s nothing holding us back if we wake up and decide to make that transformation.

One month ago, I decided to change the person I am, and every day that passes makes me prouder and happier at where I am now and what I will accomplish.

I’m not done yet, and neither are you.

Thank you, Jack.  You're The Sh*t.


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Friday, September 11, 2009

28 Days Later


279.4 lbs

That's from yesterday.  I didn't have a chance to weigh today.

This post is a little gray like the weather outside.  I'm just sayin.

So when I got to my dashboard today I saw that I have written 27 posts.  That makes this my 28th.  That's 28 days of posting.  I've heard it takes 28 days to break a habit.  I hear that a lot, because I smoke.  They've made a movie out of it where Sandra Bullock has to go to rehab because she drove her drunk car into someone's living room or something.  Or her character did I should say.  The movie was 'eh'.  Anyway, 28 seems pretty relavant in some way.  I haven't really broken any habits, but I think I've started a new one.

I write all the time about my love/hate relationship with the world of weight.  I'm just another fat girl, ya know?  Well, I realize that I've become so hyper-aware of everything relating to fat that I think I'm addicted.  I'm addicted to reading blogs.  I'm addicted to reading my own blog.  I'm addicted to the idea of other people reading my blog.  I'm addicted to Twitter.  I'm so addicted to these things, in fact, that I'm hardly on Facebook with my real persona since I started this blog.  And I could never get enough of Facebook.

So I have this secret.  Part of me is dying to share with friends that I have this awesome witty outlet (yeah, I know my blog rocks) where I really get to show just how fabulous I am and still struggle with weight, but then I realize that I could never be as candid as I am if people know about it.  It's a Catch-22.  It sucks.

Not to say this isn't fun! I love this little corner of my life. It makes me happy to come here and post.  I feel good and have a huge sense of accomplishment when I post daily and feel like I was cheated out of something when I miss a day.  Like yesterday.  I know you missed me and I want you to know that I missed me, too.  Bygones and all.  Is that what it feels like to folk who actually work out?  Hmm.  At some point I really do need to try that.

Well, enough introspection.  BFF and Hubbie are coming for a visit this weekend.  I'm excited.  I'm going to have pizza tonight and drink a few beers or something.  Don't  know what we'll do the rest of the weekend, but it's sure to be a good time.  I'll probably be back up over 280 on Monday, but that's ok.  I'm gonna try to keep it down, though.  That is, if I think about it.


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Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Planes, Trains, and What Have Yous


279.4 lbs

Did you read that li'l buddies?  Allow me to repeat that for the cheap seats in the back: 279.4 lbs. 

Happy Dance!  Happy Dance!  I'm so freaking happy right now!  Come on, get up and dance with me!

[insert time to dance happy here]

I've been on a mild high all day.  I got to go on a field trip for work which means I got to network and be social amongst the people.  Add to that the fact that I've lost a total of 7 real lbs and WOOT WOOT!! 

[insert more time to dance happy here]

That's all I've got on my brain today.  I am 3 little lbs away from a solid 10 lbs.  That's 3.48% of my total body weight.  Not bad for a month of half-assed trying. 

I'm going on a business trip at the end of the month.  Oh yeah, next month is my birthday too.  Go ahead and mark your calendars.  It's ok.  I don't mind.  Anyway.  This business trip is going from the Southeast to the Pacific on a plane.  Ew.  I hate flying on planes.  Or rather, I hate sitting in small dinky seats next to strangers on planes.  Especially strangers that are skinny or good looking or both.  Old ladies and balding men don't bother me.  But I digress. 

I'm also flying a different airline this time so I'm totally not sure what to expect on this plane.  The last time I flew comfortably I weighed 260. I know that type of weight loss isn't possible at a healthy rate in 3 little weeks, but maybe another 7 lbs is.  That's what I'm hoping anyway.  

I'm hoping that I might possibly be able to sit semi-smooshed rather than completely packed in like my butt was in that swimsuit on Monday (T-G for cargo shorts).  I'm hoping that I'll actually be able to appreciate the full affect of my xanax on the 5+ hour trip rather than obsessing over the affect my girth is having on the stooge next to me.  I'm basically hoping for a miracle.  A miracle wrapped up in the loss of 7 to 10 more lbs lost by September 30.  We'll see. 

I have more on this topic of travel and my life as just another fat girl, but I'm tired and I want to go home and revel in my weightloss.  I'll close with a little message for My Fat...

[insert even more time to dance happy here]

Neener, Neener, Nee-ner!


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Tuesday, September 8, 2009

I'm Just One Stomach Flu Away From My Goal Weight


280.8 lbs

Woot Woot!  I am so looking forward to busting through the 80's and finding my way back into the 70's.  Not eating out and making all my food at home seems to make a big difference.  So does a stomach bug.

If you've watched The Devil Wears Prada then you know what I'm talking about.  If you haven't, go rent it immedidately and catch up on some pop-culture.  As you may have gathered from my title today, my tummy isn't feeling so hot. Anything I eat isn't 'sticking' if you know what I mean. It didn't start until last night. I tried some smoked turkey sausage which wasn't bad but about an hour later I was having contractions like I was about to give birth.  I'm not even pregnant!  It was a miserable few hours.

I had a fabulous weekend.  I slept more than usual as in till after 1:00pm both Saturday and Sunday.  This is highly unusual.  Even on days where adult beverages are heavily involved the evening before, I don't sleep that late.  Hindsight and all tells me maybe I was starting to get this bug I've got.  Who knows.  I skipped out on the Saturday football game revalry. 

Sunday I didn't do much but wash some clothes.  I got a call about 3:00 from Skinny Athletic Girl.  She wanted to make sure I was still on for our weekend plans.  There was one big change, we wouldn't be heading out until Monday.  It's just a day trip!  Woo Hoo!  I should be able to manage that.
I did make a fantastic dinner Sunday night.  I had some shrimp in the freezer I bought a few weeks ago when they were on sale.  I thought for a minute, what to do with these shrimp?  Last time I had shrimp, it was somewhat scampi style and I didn't enjoy it as much.  this time, I decided I just wanted to boil them in salt water.  So that's what I did.  Wait, it gets better.  Just shrimp isn't an exciting meal, so I decided to make some pasta (I used thin spaghetti) and toss it with some olive oil, a little bit of butter, spinach, garlic and parmasean cheese.  Yum.  Throw in the shrimp and I had a delicious dinner! 

Monday I got a swimsuit from my mom (aren't moms great?), threw on some cargo shorts and a white button-down and headed out the door. It was a fairly good time overall! I got some sun, had some good laughs, lived through what I consider to be a traumatic experience.  Then I came home and pretty much immediately got sick. Nice.

I'd have to give this weekend a score of a 6.9 on a scale of 10.  It could have been better, but it could have been a whole lot worse.


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Friday, September 4, 2009

Do I Stay or Do I Go? a.k.a Indecent Exposure


285.0 lbs

Holding steady, People.  Let's see what happens on Monday.

It's Friday.  Even better is the fact that it's a Friday of a long weekend.  Hoo Ray!

I don't have plans this weekend.  Well, I've been invited to watch college football on Saturday.  This is as sacred as Sunday School in the South.  I'm not loyal to any one team; it depends on who I'm around at the time.  But don't tell anyone.  It's an obsession in Small Southern City.  I've never seen so many spirit tags or bumper stickers on cars in any one place before.  It's kinda scary.

I also have an invite to go to a lakehouse Sunday and Monday.  I accepted.  Yikes.  Skinny Athletic Girl will be there.  Now remember how SAG looked last weekend?  Well, tripple that H-O-T-ness with a string bikini and super tan body.  Holy. Crap.  What is jafg to do? 

I've been back and forth about wether or not to go.  If I go, how do I say I haven't been able to find my swimsuit in like 2 YEARS.  Will I be able to avoid any possible photo ops?  Trust me, I haven't practiced posing for pictures in skin tight lycra. Hell, I avoid the mirror as much as possible when going from the bedroom to the bathroom for a shower.  That's pretty much the same thing.  Add to that the lack of boobage support in most one pieces and it's really not a pretty picture.

Let me share with you just how bad this is.  Last night, I had a dream that I was in my swimsuit with shorts on.  Not too bad, right?  Well, I'm hanging out with everyone and I look down to find I was wearing a bra on the outside of the thing.  I think that's the closest I've ever been to having the "I'm naked in front of everybody" dream. Great.

Ok...How do I get out of this? What possible excuse would I have for not going besides my fatness.  I mean come on.  I've got to be stronger than this.  I really don't get my self worth from my weight, but I don't parade around all happy about being fat either.  My Fat agrees with me on this point.  Is it possible to overcome this obvious stress of being a fat girl in a very skinny situation and have a good time?  I wouldn't be expected to wear a swimsuit the entire time. Or whatever make-shift version I have to come up with since I can't even bring myself to buy one, either. Egad!

Here's the kicker.  On one of those nights out with SAG and adult beverages, I practically begged to go to Lake House.  Two weeks later and here we are; invited.  Damnit. 

That's right, folks.  I asked for this torment.


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Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Dollars and Sense


???.? lbs

I know, I know. What good is a weight watcher if I don't know my weight?

Today's been all about food. Really BAD good food, too. I started off the day with a cinnamon muffin and coffee. Yum. I didn't get a second cup which probably explains my headache right now. I moved to a decent lunch of home-made tuna salad, whole grain bread and Baked Lays. I also had a half a Coke. Note: I didn't have the will power to drink half a Mr. Pibb. I've ended my work day with Snicker Bar and Almond Joy. I've been a very naughty girl. I enjoyed every minute of it.

I've been a busy worker bee today; in meetings, sending emails, updating FB and Twitter. All the important things that fill my day. I even had time to find a new little flashy button for my blog to shamelessly plug that I heart comments. Really. I heart them. A lot.

I've always got my blogpost in the back of my head looking for new angles on life and My Fat. It's not as easy as I make it out to be. Sometimes life has absolutely nothing to do with My Fat. That hurts My Fat's ego, too. Sometimes My Fat just wants to be the center of attention. Hello, World! My Fat is here! Like I said, it's not as easy as it seems.

So I took the elevator (yes, I took the elevator) to go down to smoke. I was standing outside, mildly peaved and equally pleased that I had cheated with the elevator, contemplating today's blogpost. I let my mind wander to what I've thought about over the past few days and thought of the most recent blog I read which was FINE LINE by my good friend Dixie Livin'. She even knows my secret fat girl identity. I've enjoyed adult beverages with her. But, I digress. Her post was about weddings (and was really funny, I highly recommend it) and I was thinking about when I was a large girl in a skinny wedding. Ok! That's what I'll write about. My Fat would have the starring role even if it was from a story in 2005. Sometimes, though, things don't always go according to plan.

I was finishing up the last few puffs of the coffin-nail when this lady walked by. See, there's this cute little neighborhood right behind my work building. No busy traffic at all. I usually see this one guy walking around. He doesn't ever wave back which is why I remember him so well. Anyway. This lady walked by in one direction. Puff, Puff. Contemplation. Then she walked by in the other direction. She'd made her lap, apparently. She bent over and picked something up. My thoughts: "Oh how wonderful! What a conscientious neighbor to pick up litter like that!" O'Contrare M'Onfrare.

I turn around and wave. It's what you do in the South. She waved back rather enthusiatically. She was waving the litter she just picked up. "A DOLLAR!!!! A DOLLAR!!! JACKPOT!!!" That's right, my exercise-challenged friends. She found a dollar. Skinny bitch.

Moral of the story, It really does pay to walk.


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Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Blondes and SAG


285.2 lbs

--yesterday's weight--

Sometimes I'm at a loss for words.  Like today for example.  For my faithful few, however, I will do my best.

I went out with Skinny Athletic Girl and the Blondes Saturday night.  I had a blast!  Heard a great band, played Darts, I totally suck at Darts, btw, and drank Michelob Ultra.  I'm not a big beer fan but this wasn't too bad.  Plus it's supposedly a low carb, lower calorie beer.  So, what the hell, right? 

I had a decent hair night and the make-up looked great.  I was pretty happy with the outfit, a nice purple top with jeans and cute shoes.  Jewelry was rockin as always.  Overall, I walked out of my diggs with a pretty healthy chunk of postive energy. 

I'm mostly on time when I arrive and SAG's house.  More positive energy.  She opens the door and Damn.  She's 5'11" and is all legs.  The fitted dress she wore barely came below her "bum".  I couldn't fault her for it because she looked H-O-T.  I'd like to look that H-O-T one day!  If I had a body like hers, I would totally dress like that just to pick soymilk up from the grocery.  I would.

To make matters worse, she's gotten the P90X thing and is talking about her workouts and how sore she is.  Of course, I'm thinking I should be sore from working out, not her.  She says she's finally getting definition in her calves to which I reply "Finally?".  I couldn't help it. 

I found out what the P90X thing's a 90-day regiment of complete muscle confusion.  It's supposed to really smack your body out of and into shape.  I know a Bride who's currently on the program.  She's always on Facebook about it.  It's tiresome really.  The status updates, not the plan.  Well, maybe the plan, too, but I wouldn't know.  I don't use it. 

The Blondes arrived and thank GAWD they are not wearing skimpy dresses.  The Blondes could totally wear little skimpy dresses, I assure you.  Oh--I call them The Blondes because I'm not blonde and they are...I can't reveal much more than that to protect my secret Fat Girl identity.  Anyway, The Blondes are wearing jeans and tops, all looking much more fetching in their clothes than I am.  But, I do have a great hair accessory.  Kudos for me.

We're out for the evening having a grand old time.  We all love the band.  Great band!  Wish I could share the name, but alas, I've got my secret identity to think about.  Close to closing time, we head up to After-Hours bar.  This place seems like a good idea at the time everybody's saying "Yeah, let's go!" but they're not.  They're really not. 

Every drunk girl and boy out on a Saturday night happen to be at After-Hours bar.  We're all packed in like Sardines.  It's horrible.  Really.  I'm separated from my posse by a sea of entering and exiting drunkards.  I'm being felt up by some dude sitting by a chick too drunk to notice.  Sounds like fun, doesn't it? 

Continuing with the story...I finally make it across the great divide and perch at the bar feeling a little safer.  You can smoke in this club so both service and an ashtray are immediately available. It doesn't get much better than that.  We're all pretty content, SAG and The Blondes have latched on to two guys.  These are former "friends" of SAG.  Conversation is flowing.  Then, the boys have a few friends join them.  This is the moment I stop enjoying myself. 

All the sudden these three asses wedge themselves between me and The Blondes and I get completely shut out.  Don't misunderstand me.  I really don't care about the attention or lack thereof, I care about the complete lack of acknowledgement that I was even part of this group.  Why don't these boys do the decent thing and pretend to include me in the convo?  Well, I did the only thing a respectable girl could do in my position.  I lit another cigarette and let it billow in their faces.  I was going to accidentally burn them, but I didn't get the opportunity.  My girls saved me.  These skinny girls walked away from their fanclub and pulled me with them.  Now that's cool.

It may seem like I don't like SAG and The Blondes, but that isn't true.  They're my peeps.  I heart them!  Besides, even if I were on the same level of H-O-T-ness as they are, which I am already in my own way, there'd still be something to bitch about.  We're girls.  It's what we do.


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