If you're bored - click here. I do.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Things That I Have Learned






Monday, May 24, 2010

On Friendly's And The Food Therein

I went to Friendly's yesterday. 

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

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

It may look like this:
 But what I'm really ingesting is this:


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

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

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

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

Friday, May 21, 2010

You Know What I Hate?

1. Underwire bra rashes and bruises. Ok, if we're gonna go there, I hate underwire bras. Sadly, underwire is the only thing keeping my girls from swinging of the floor.

2. Hmm, this may become a anti bra rant. I hate the marks left in my shoulders after I take my bra off at night. It looks like my kid could run a matchbox car race in there.

3. Teeny tiny stiletto heels. Ok, secretly I love them. I want to wear them. I just don't want to look like a fat midget elephant on stilts when I do.

4. The people in the McDonald drive through that ask me if I want to "go large" or "supersize" my food. Honey, I am large, and I've been supersized for the last 10 years. I don't need your help, k thanx bye.

5. Pews. Where's the plus sized, cushioned, padded pews? Didn't think so.

6. Diet food. There's a secret code for it - I think I have it figured out. Sugar free means high fat, Fat free means high calorie, and Low calorie means high sugar. I'm fat and diabetic - guess that means I live on celery for the next year. Yum.

7. While we're talking about food, why is there no healthy food options at the movie theater. Except Coke Zero. Color me ecstatic.

 8. Sugar free candy. Or sugar free chocolate. I thought I had found an out, something to finally look forward to. then I ate a whole bag and spent the night on the toilet. Thanks a lot for teasing me, Russell Stover.

9. Skinny people that pinch their skin and whine "I'm fat". My size zero sister used to do that. Then she got pregnant. Who's laughing now?

10. Fat people that pinch their fat and whine "I'm fat". Duh. You think?

Thursday, May 20, 2010

My Eyelids Hurt

I am so tired for no appearant reason. I am sore in places I don't think are supposed to even exist, much less make me sore. Like.....

The neck muscle behind my ear.
My ring finger on my right hand. (I'm left handed.)
My eyelids.
The muscles below the kneecap.
And a couple of other highly unmentionable places. 



So, what kind of not normal is that? I worked out last night, hard - but no harder than usual. I did my regular 2 miles, then added another 0.2 just for kicks. I didn't think 0.2 miles could kick my butt. But it did. I am sore. I even had to beg my husband to go get me a bowl of cereal because I could not get off the couch. Ok, I could get off of the couch, I just didn't want to.

On another note, I have been very, very depressed lately. It's strange because I've been feeling great. But I was sitting at the computer yesterday at about 3PM, and I just instantly felt utterly worthless. It's like all these little voices in my head were yelling at me "fat, lazy, ugly, worthless!" It was horrible. I had no drive, no motivation, I didn't even want to play a video game! (which, for me, is highly unusual). Fortunately my sister asked us over for dinner, so I made myself go. It worked because I'm back to normal. I'm thinking I just had a bad few days because I let my eating get out of control again. And that allowed me to feel disgusting and out of control. It's odd how much my eating determines my moods, isn't it? Hmmm, may have to look into that.

So that's it, that's all that's on my  mind. Ok, it isn't all, but if I wrote it all - we'd be here for days.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Ode To My Spanx

Oh, my Spanx. This love of mine, 
That keeps my belly flap in line. 
A marvel of science, so true, so fair, 
You have replaced my underwear.

In you my gut I cinch and stuff, 
with you I can feel thin enough.
I have 3 pairs, black, tan, and white,
that help me feel small and tight.

You give me wedgies, yes, it's true, 
and pinch my flab and stomach too.
My camel toe, on you I blame, 
I have to dig you out, with shame.



My inner organs you rearrange, 
and people seem to find it strange, 
when I unroll and pull you up, 
and tuck you under my large bra cup.

I'll take a shower and put you on, 
though the struggle always goes so long.
Since if I put you on while I am wet,
I end up tired and out of breath.

Come to think of it, I see, 
you really aren't that good for me.
So I'll say so long to you right here, 
and go back to my underwear.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

You Know What I Hate?

1. People who come and leave crappy anonymous comments. Hit and Run Commentators - go do something useful with yourself. Like, playing in traffic.


2. Why in the hell do the clothing makers assume that big people are twice as wide, instead of  - oh, I don't know - twice as tall.

3. Since when is it ok to make fat women look like they're wearing tablecloths? Or Grandma's curtains?



4. Exercise. I mean, that's obvious, but I still hate it.

5. Kids that laugh at fat people. Really, your parents have provided you with video games, dvd players, snack foods, cell phones, and iPods. Do you really have so little to do that you feel the need to point and stare? Go tell your parents to beat you for a week please, you little jerks.

6. On that note - why do some adults feel the need to yell "Shamu!" at you while walking down the street? I'm not the one drunk on my porch yelling things at strangers, loser.

7. The way skinny people stare at you when you work out. How else am I ever supposed to get skinny? Working out at home isn't working out for me - obviously. Duh.

8. Fat people that go to a restaurant and order the teeniest salad possible. C'mon - you're either pretending to care, or starving yourself stupid. Neither one is very healthy for you.

9. Folding chairs. Hard. Small. Metal. 'Nuff said.

10. Chocolate, Cheesecake and Mashed Potatoes. The trifecta of flabby arms and large bellies. Actually, it's more of a love/hate relationship - but who's counting?

In Her Eyes

Hrmm.  Seth over at Fit With A Purpose asked a cool question.

What's your favorite part of your body?

Wow. I get so hung up on what's wrong with my body, that I don't often take the time out to find what I do like. I used to - but that was when i was 100 pounds lighter. Memories...

Anyway, I thought I'd answer the question and throw it up here. (I think that's a total of 3 posts in one day....I must be bored...) And post it with a pic.



So, my favorite part of me is my eyes. I'd say it was my face, but my face has a lot of chins right now - so I narrowed it down to the eyes. I love them, the color, the shape. I just do. My mom used to call me her alien baby because my eyes had flecks of gold in them. Just a bit of info, and a just reassuring myself that I still have something going for me. (<---sarcasm, please don't think I need major therapy just from making that comment.)

Well, there ya go. Thanks for the question, and thanks for a reason to compliment myself.  I needed it.

Friday, May 7, 2010

The Universe Hates Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Eating and Autopilot

Ok. This eating right thing is way harder than I thought. Way harder. Way. Harder.

I woke up today hungry (as usual) and went to the kitchen. I reached for my usual breakfast of 4 eggs (with cheese) and 4 pieces of toast (with butter). I had them out of the fridge and ready to crack before my brain screamed "What are you doing?????" at me. I immediately halted, returned eggs to the fridge and went for the Honey Nut Cheerios. Generic, of course - but who's looking? I walked over to the cupboard and went to get my tub of butter sized bowl that I use for soup, ice cream and cereal. In fact, I think it may have been a tub of butter once, but now I use it so I can have 3 helpings of anything all at once. Without having to get back up off the couch to go and get the 2nd and 3rd helping. The bowl wasn't there, and I was on autopilot looking for it - before I realized that 3 bowls of anything was about as bad as 4 eggs. I thought I was being healthy - but it turns out I wasn't even thinking. At all. Period. I finally got myself a real bowl (not a mini mixing bowl) of cereal, and sat down to eat, read, network and blog.

Yep. There it is, my "cereal" bowl.
What truly bothers me is the amount of food that must be making its way to my mouth before I realize it. I can sit down and scarf a whole tray of Oreos before I've even consciously thought about it. I can't do that with Little Debbie snacks - but only because I have to open each individual snack. I go to McD's and order 3 double cheeseburgers, and don't consider what I'm eating until I get halfway home. How do I keep track of my food, when I subconsciously eat? Sure, I caught myself today - but how do I always remain on guard? Grr.

Well, aside from my food difficulties, I have decided that I need to workout at home as well as at the gym. I want to achieve a total of 25 workouts a month - hence the ticker at the top of the page. I don't think I'm going to lose much weight unless I'm more active at home. I actually went to the gym and discovered I had gained a pound. Gained?!?!?! My friend C insists that it's all muscle. I'm going to believe that for now.

So, in short - 25 workouts, eat right. Ok. I can do this.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

A Day At The Gym

I have done it! I went to the gym. For some that may not be much - but for me it's a milestone.

I've been going for about a week now, with my best friend. I went 2 days last week, and I went for the first time this week today. I want to get about 3 workouts at the gym a week. And I want to do some sort of physical activity at least once a day. Except for maybe Sunday. Sunday's a good day to chill out.

So....the gym. Yeah. What is it about the gym that scares me so much? Let me give you a day in the life of Fatty McGee at the Gym.

9:30 AM - Trying to get some extra hours of sleep after putting my son on the bus. I toss, I turn, I cover my eyes with a sock, and the Hubby wakes me up to tell me that my friend C called and wants to go to the gym. The tossing and turning turns into moaning and groaning, because all I want to do is SLEEP. I went to bed at 3 am, woke up at 8. But, I know if I don't do this today, I won't do it later on. Time to start making myself do what I don't want to do. So I get up, throw on the famed red underwire bra, and get ready to work out at the gym. Oh, the fun, the fun.

10:15 AM - C picks me up and off we go. Talk, talk, talk. Ok we're here. I go in and the first thing I need is my credit card, I'm thirsty and have no pockets and no change. I'm too lazy to carry a wallet around the gym (carrying a drink is enough of a pain) so I yank my card out of my bra strap, and swipe me a Gatorade. Pull my membership card from the same place, ignore the stares, and in we go.

You're smiling and running? I hate you.
10:30 AM - I'm here. Goody.  Now, I will state right here for the record that there is no way I would be here without C. We have a women's only part of the gym, and although it's women - it's still intimidating. Miss Skinny Blonde is on the floor doing crunches, and Beautiful Brunette is on the elliptical. I make my way to the treadmill, while C tans a little, and start warming up. Setting the treadmill on 1.5, off I go. I work up a sweat, and feel like I'm booking it along - I'm doing great! Then I look over at the other girls....and they're running. Running. Sheesh. Note to self - buy blinders.

11:00 AM - C's done and we start the weights. Machines only - I'm not crazy enough to pretend I know how to lift free weights. We make the rounds, and I notice one thing. Weight machines do not come in plus sizes. My hips and thighs hang over the edge of every seat. I look around and wonder how many people are laughing at me, and how many are waiting for me to break the machine. the only thing that keeps me going is talking to C. Distraction is my friend here. The good thing is, every muscle feels every move, so I'm doing something right somehow.

11:30 AM - Back to the cardio stuffs. C gets on the elliptical, and I decide to join her. 2 minutes later and I decide to try the bicycle. 2 seconds later, I just stick to the treadmill. My butt's too big for anything else, and my thighs can't handle elliptical workouts. C's going on 2 miles, and I'm working on 5 minutes of walking at 1.5. This is truly sad. I see many different people starting to work out - a Muslim lady, a lady with 5 pounds of green eyeshadow on (at the gym?!?! Really?) and a middle aged lady doing yoga on the floor. She has a bit of a muffin top too, so I don't feel so bad. But now it's time to leave. Note to self - find out when the fat people go to the gym so I don't feel so alone.

12:00 AM - Back in the van, cooling off, I decide to go to Subway and get me a foot long veggie on wheat. For fun I decide to try spinach leaves, I hear they're good for you. I even feel stupid ordering veggie on wheat, because I just know they're waiting for me to order the meatball sub with 3 cookies. I fool them all - I get Baked Lay's. Ha. Time to go home and eat in peace and anonymity.

So that's it. Every time. The gym scares me, but since I have C, I can handle it. I know I can do this, I just have to be as stubborn about this as I am about getting up and going to McDonald's for breakfast.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The Moment Of Awareness

I woke up one warm morning in May, slowly getting out of bed, wearing the customary pajama pants and requisite grubby T-shirt. I was sore, tired, and hungry. I wanted food, but didn't want to cook anything. Heck, I was too tired to even toast an English Muffin. Wearily I glanced at my holey red underwire bra and decided I was too tired to put it on. The shoulder straps dig my shoulders and the wire digs into the fleshy part of my back. I am no glutton for punishment, so I figured that the man in the drive thru window of McDonald's didn't care much about how high my boobs were that morning. Instead I reached for my tattered purple sports bra, the bra that keeps my breasts off of my knees, but thankfully requires minimum effort to wear. Throwing my ancient navy blue hoodie on, I gathered some energy, and went to the car.

Once in the car I realized that it would have taken just as much effort to grab a pop tart. Oh well, I was already in the car - there was no going back. Besides, McDonald's was sounding better by the moment. Wrestling the seat belt around my fat rolls, I started up the car and off I went.

Yum.
Reaching McDonald's in that miraculous time between breakfast and lunch, I saw that there was no line. Glad that there was nothing keeping this fat girl from her food I ordered 2 ham, egg and cheese bagel sandwiches, 1 hash brown, and 1 large Mocha Frappe. Yum. Oh yeah, I got some sausage egg Mcmuffins for the hubby while I was at it. Too make me feel less guilty I grabbed him a Mocha Frappe too. I'm so thoughtful it's scary.

Once at home, I woke up the Man, and left him his food. I went downstairs, plopped onto my side of the couch, and ate one bagel sandwich as fast as I could. I didn't want my husband to find out exactly how much I had ordered, or how much I spent. It was good, but I barely tasted it. When he finally came downstairs I was working on my second sandwich, and he remained blissfully unaware of my expenditure. And my appetite.

It was somewhere in these morning moments that I realized something. I had not seen my bellybutton in about 19 years. If I get a mirror, and lay flat down on my bed - I just may catch a momentary glimpse. But I haven't seen it in forever, primarily because I'm just too lazy to get the mirror out and find it. I realized that I don't know what it's like to have a flat stomach, or what if feels like to shop in a regular store. I don't know what it is to sweat, much less work out. I'm 31 years old, and I'm on 4 different medications, because of weight related health problems. I can't play soccer with my 9 year old son, or walk around the mall with my friends. I realized that I'm scared, and I don't want to die of a heart attack at age 40.

So this is my wake up call, my last ditch effort to take back my life. This blog will hopefully serve at a place to vent, whine, brag and boast. I want to be the success story, the woman who loses 150 pounds (or more) through natural means. I can do this.

My plan? Exercise, I joined a gym with my best friend - who is willing to work out with me 3 times a week. Eat right, I don't know how - but that's what the Internet is for. I can research, and learn what I need to know. So, join me as I try to solve The Case Of The Missing Bellybutton - laugh, cry, snort, mock, whatever you want. Just don't offer me a cookie.