Fight Fat Phobia

I got a new phone too!

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 21:16:00 +0000

I got up to 200 followers somehow, and that's awesome. If I could lose pounds as successfully as I gain followers, I'd be one hot bitch right about now. Unfortunately that ain't the way it works, but it's still awesome that so many people care about my story and show up to read it even when it drags ass like it has been lately. Sorry about the draggin, but stick with me, kids! Things will get better.

As for now, I have this stupid whatever is going around. Doc said it's just a sinus infection but it's still pretty sucky. I feel like a phlegm factory and I realized that it's impossible to hide your triple chins in a coughing fit. The coughing is the worst! Plus I hate the way it sounds, all dry and hacky. I need a sexier cough sound.

The doctor told me to stay home from work on Thursday and that sounded like some advice I could get behind. But I ended up going to like 3 Targets instead and then going to the movies. We went to see that MJ movie. It was pretty good, but hard for me to enjoy because of these drunk assholes sitting like 3 rows behind us. They were having like a swear-off match turned up to 11 and they would not fucking shut up EVER. Look, I'm not gonna be all preachy about people swearing because...well, yeah...but like, turn it down, you assholes. Then the one chick is like reading the subtitles out LOUD and singing along but with the wrong words and at all the wrong times and just being drunk and annoying.

I really wanted to get up and just be like CAN YOU SHUT YOUR DRUNK FUCKING MOUTH AND WATCH THE MOVIE?? But I ain't do that. First of all, because I have class and grace, like a modern day Grace Kelly, see? And secondly because I am a giant coward and I fear getting my ass kicked above all other fears in life, even ghosts! Yeah, I'm a pussy and I freely admit it. I mean, look at me, I'm soft! This body is not tuned for fighting, it's tuned for hugs and biting sarcasm. Plus God forbid, someone calls me a fat bitch in a room full of people and I have to down a bottle of Vicodin POST-HASTE.

So we just left for a later showing and I tattled to the manager. I doubt they did anything, but I can at least take comfort in the fact that all the other people in the movie are as pussy-ish as me since no one else said/did anything either. Drunk people are my biggest gripe about living in Las Vegas. I understand people come here to have a good time, but there are about 40,000 places where that kinda behavior is acceptable in this town, and about 4 where it isn't. One of the four obviously being a goddamn movie theater. I can only afford to go to the movies like once a fucking year these days, and it seems like there's always some beligerent jerk there to make sure it won't be worth the money.

Also, why are you THAT drunk at 4pm on a fucking Thursday? Something is wrong here. We all have our vices but fuck off, man. You don't pay ten bucks to watch me eat, so I don't wanna pay ten bucks to watch you be drunk.

Rant over.

Speaking of rants, pity has garnered me yet another prize in life! Fat Daddy is giving me his seat belt extender to take on my trip home in ONLY 3 WEEKS! (holy shit!) I'm excited about not having to ask for one, because it always takes a little of the wind outta my sails, you know? Plus then I'll send it off to someone to destroy when I get back. It's called Paying it Forward, I think Kevin Spacey invented it. Thanks, FD, you're A-OK in my book, sir.

The Guns of Navarone

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 07:24:00 +0000

I'm kinda bummed now that Halloween is officially over. It's my favorite holiday and today I had to take down all my spooky cubicle decorations and send it back to bleaksville. It looks so boring and regular now! Hate it. Oh well, only 362 more days to go.

Halloween was really fun this year. I went out and had a good time and saw a good band and made some new friends and it was just good all over. We did the kiddie handing out candy thing for a while, then headed out to our trivia bar to see my favorite local band Darby O'Gill and the Little People.

(in their Batman gear...)

People at the bar were really receptive to my $2 costume. Apparently alcoholics really love Arby's. It garnered me many drunken high fives and it was nice to have people pointing and laughing at something other than my fatness for a change. If only everyday could be Halloween!

Fast forward about four hours and I am the only sober one left trying to corrall this motliest of crews into cabs or my backseat. It was a mess but worth it. I wonder if people look at me being rolled out of a Golden Corrall the same way I look at drunk people stumbling out of bars and into their cars. My guess is probably. Stupid honey butter rolls!

Speaking of drunkasses, this boyfriend of mine decided to puke alllll over the passenger side of my car on the way home. We were minutes away from home, it was a real heartbreaker! I think few things are as demeaning as having to sit in your own waste, be it poop or vomit, so I'm glad it was a short trip. It was all 0 to 60 on the pukemobile though. He went from "I don't feel so good" to "nah, i'll be okay" to "projectile vomitting" in the span of about 10 seconds. Gross, dude.

It was also like some weird comedy of errors because I was pulled over on the side of the road trying to get his ass outta the car and everytime I would unlock the door, he would lock it again thinking he was unlocking it, then getting all frustrated because he's holding in about 6 gallons of puke and we're playing red light-green light with the fucking lock switch. Very annoying. He swung the door open just in time to release a neon rainbow of Fat Tire all over my poor door panel.

I woke him up early the next day to clean the shit, because I literally couldn't. Everytime my fingers touch puke, I'm like Superfly TNT, dig? Yeah, puke begets puke and I can't deal, so he Resolved and Fabreezed the shit outta my car and I still get in there everytime like I'm trying to sniff out a bomb because if even the slightest hint remains, the car is pretty much unusable. So far...so good-ish.

As for November, I'm supposed to kick ass this month so Pow Pow MFers.

Today woulda been my mom's 69th birthday. Sure wish she was still around. It's been almost eight years but I still miss her every day. Makes me sad. Happy Birthday, Mom!

But after today...more kicking ass.

Shut up and work...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 07:03:00 +0000

30 more people got fired at my job today. Panic sets in and brings with it a bucket of fun-sized candy bars, minus the fun. To be fair, I only had 3, which is a far cry from days of yore when a whole bag trembled in fear when it saw my big ass pass by. Three I can deal with. I'm just stressed and everyone's all paranoid and annoying. "Say, did you hear about Ol' Whatserface?" "yeah, I heard...we all heard. Stop talking about it!" It's like working in some war-torn nation. Everyday you know there's gonna be another casualty, you just hope it's no one you know or care about. And of course you hope it's not you. Having no insurance would suck.

The 300s still remain elusive. I know I'm only one good colonic away from them but there's no point in cheating to get there. It'll happen soon enough. Eyes on the prize and all that business, you know?

Straight outta Compton...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 17:50:00 +0000

Yeah yeah, I know.

I been having some dang hard times lately, you guys.

I broke my back. Well, not really. But it feels like it! It sucks. I move around in a very elderly fashion making the "OW MY BACK!" face about every 4 steps. Very annoying during this Halloween shopping season. I went to the doctor and she sent me to get an x-ray which was an altogether awkward and humiliating experience involving two hot x-ray techs and a hospital gown that wasn't even close. Seriously. I mean, not...even...close.

Two days later, I get this message on my voicemail..."Hi this is blah-blah from Dr. BlahBlah's office and we got your test results back. Normal results. Okay, thanks, bye." Ugh. Doubleyou-tee-eff. Now I just assume they thought I was faking to get pills, which I didn't even TAKE, mind you. No mention of a follow-up or referral or MRI or anything that might actually be helpful. So annoying. This doctor is really starting to get on my nerves. I realize she's a doctor and her station in life is significantly more important that just a lowly phone jockey like me, but she won't respond to emails or messages I send. I always have to go in. And that's a giant pain in the ass when she works the same hours I do and she could easily just pick up a phone and call in a referral for me. I'm thinking of just finding a new doctor. Which is another pain in the ass. Everything is annoying!

Work is stressful. I'm happy to have my job. I'm grateful to be working during these awful economic times. But man, stress. It sucks because I actually do like my job. I mean the customers get annoying at times and it does make me hate old people, but other than that, it's the best job I've ever had. But it just feels scary. It feels like any given day could be your last or like I could drive up tomorrow and the gates could be locked up and I'd be screwed. It's just tension and pins and needles and walking on eggshells every day. Working at a bank is always kinda scary cause they just switch owners like kids trading baseball cards, but it's even worse when times are hard, and well...times are freaking hard. I'm just hoping for the best and trying to keep my head down and not rock any boats.

You know, despite the back and the work stress, I've actually been doing remarkably well on the dieting front. I'm weird because I'm like the opposite of most weight loss bloggers. When I'm doing terrible, I can blog every day about all the random crap going on in my life. But when I'm doing well, being on plan, I feel boring and can't decide what to blog about. "Today I ate some lettuce...the world is a vampire. The end." Although I agree that would make an awesome blog, it's just not me. I am a rambler and I need to ramble on. Incessantly. About dumb shit.

So I saw a 3 at the beginning of my weight for the first time in a while, but it ended up being a fluke. Curses! The next morning I was up 4 pounds, so I think it was just my scale messing with my emotions. But...I'm still headed in the right direction, and that's good. I'm going home for a few days in early December and if I can lose a few before then, that'd just be swell. I don't want the Southwest lady giving me another lecture about their seating policy. YEAH, I GET IT, THANKS. The armrest goes down, can't charge me twice. Sorry, rules is rules, Southwest.

Sorry this is such a boring post, but hey, at least I blogged. Beggars can't be choosers, dudes.

Also, how've you been?

Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 11:00:00 +0000

You see this apple?
Let it be known that when I tossed this apple into my purse this morning at appx. 7:50am, it was green with several hints of red. I got in my car and threw my purse into the passenger seat, as is the usual routine. At 1:07 pm, I reached into my purse to retrieve the apple on my way to lunch. Alas, it was not there. Where the hell could this damn apple be? Forty minutes later, it dawns on me that maybe it rolled out of my purse on the way to work. Genius! I walk outside to get my apple. I peek through the window and see this fine apple sitting in the passenger seat all alone. I unlock the door and reach in to grab it. It's cooked. Baked by the Las Vegas sun. Tragedy. There will be no apple for me this day.

Dude, that sucks. It's like days away from October and I can cook a fucking apple in my car. This injustice won't stand.

Moving on to bigger and better things: Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a winner!

This is a step-by-step process to be explained in pictures and a wall of text:
First off, I notice no one bothered to tell me that my comments aren't numbered. I thought I could just use that Random Integer thing and pick a number and go to that number and declare a winner, but...no numbers. So I had to get real crafty and print out all the comments and cut them out and fold them ghetto drawing style.

As you can see, there were a lot of entries....far too many for my planned receptacle:

We found a bigger bucket to dump them into and I let the lovely Lupe do the dirty work:

(Shake shake shake...)
A winner is drawn!
Erin from the xxl-files: tales of a fat girl in a strange, strange world. (She also wins world's longest title.) Congrats Erin! Kindly email an address over to me at fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com and your winnings shall be making their way to you shortly!

Look...here are all the losing comments...kinda makes me sad.
But chin up, friends! You all get this lovely Participation Ribbon just for playing! (Well, not really...I only bought one. But just pretend this one's for you?) You may remember the Participation Ribbon from such traumatic fat childhood experiences as Field Day, Relay Races and the Presidential Fitness Exam.
Well, thanks for playing, guys. I hope you bums will still bother coming around even when I'm not giving away free stuff. This was fun and I'm sure I'll do it again in the not-so-distant future, so don't be a stranger. :)

Snoozy.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 12:00:00 +0000

It's Saturday. BuyCostumes.com is doing this thing where they have 5 costumes each day for under 5 bucks so I stayed up until 6am to see what the deal is today because they're always sold out by the time I get to work during the week. Then I find out they only do it on weekdays. Wonk wonk. Not like those pre-assembled costumes ever fit me or anything, but I still like getting a good deal on things. So much so that I will stay up until 6am on a Saturday just to get my fat paws on a steal. It's called dedication to your craft, people.

My department decided to be zombies this year as a group for Halloween. That's kind of a bummer since I was already a zombie LAST year for Halloween. Being a SUPER plus sized gal, you pretty much have like 3 options. Clown, witch or zombie. Boooring. I originally wanted to get a Biggest Loser tshirt and be a Biggest Loser "BEFORE" contestant, but everyone kept giving me the self-esteem lecture, so I had to scrap it. So I guess I got no choice but to rejoin the forces of the dead this year. I need a creative way to die...any ideas? First one to say heart attack gets a punch in the face!

Hey, since we're already talking about Halloween and all, I may as well show you the pictures of my cubicle. They didn't come out that great. I mean, it's way more spookier in person, is what I'm saying.

First I found these cool granite thingies at the dollar store. Here they are just chillin on my desk with a bunch of cups and my fan:

Here's the rest of it. You can't really see the cemetary gate thingies on the top, but those kick ass, plus they kinda make my cubicle walls higher which is good because it makes it harder for people to spy on me while I update Blogger all day. I even typed in a personalized message for you!
Yeah, that's it. I wish I could do more, but I still have to work in the stupid thing so it's hard to really let the creative juices flow in such limited space. One day I'll have a job with a real office that belongs to only me and I will decorate the shit out of it because professionalism is overrated.

Here is an example of why I should have a giveaway every day:

I don't mind having to buy your love and affection, but at least be more subtle! Say, if you haven't entered yet, you still have 2 more dayssss.

I'm prolly gonna spend the rest of today in bed, so I hope you have a great day doing whatever it is that normal people do on the weekends. Good golf, good tennis, or whatever makes you happy. Marrrvin Zindler, Eyewitness News. (shout out to my Houston peeps!)

Falling for you.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 11:00:00 +0000

I like making lists. Something about numbering or bullet points just makes me happy. So I wanna start doing a Friday Top 5. Maybe not every Friday, but...for now at least.

I was talking to my brother the other day and out of nowhere he asks "So have you had any good falls lately?" Maybe you don't know this about me, but I fall down a lot. Like...a lot. I tend to blame it on my fatness cause I can't see my feet when I walk really, or because fat lends it's way to gravity or something. Maybe I'm just clumsy...not sure really. Alls I know is that I fall down a great deal and it has led to a lifetime of jokes from my family.

My bro says that my problem is that I don't know "how" to fall. The way that most people catch themselves, or can jog their way out of a fall...yeah, I cant, and never do. Falling is like a grand event in my life and it always leaves me all beat up and embarrassed. I guess the irony of the situation is that if I see anyone else fall, I will fucking laugh about that shit for days and days, but clearly, I don't see the comedy in my own epic flailings.

Without further ado, I present to you my Top 5 Falls:

1. The Threesome: The movie Threesome came out when I was 16 years old. Being right in the prime of my hormonal teenage lets-talk-about-sex-babeee stage, I was all over it. I had planned for like weeks to go see it for my birthday with my sister-in-law. My mom, being a mom, was not too keen on the idea of me seeing a movie called Threesome, and basically was like "ehhh...no." But because I was turning 16 and I was LIKE SO TOTALLY AN ADULT LIKE OMG, I was like "eff that, we're goin." So I ditched school and off we went. Of course like any other time in my life that I try to do some sneaky shady shit, I have to do something stupid in order to get caught. This time...I fell. In my defense, movie theatres are dark and the floors are always slippery, so it's not that CRAZY that I could slip and fall. But the movie had just ended and I was trying to high-tail it outta there and I ended up doing like this crazy split turn move that ended me with me on that dirty buttery floor crying in pain. My SIL didn't see me fall and was already outside the theater waiting for me before she finally came back in to see me in a pathetic heap on the ground. I twisted my ankle something awful and thought for sure it was broken! So, like a wimp, I called my mom. Long story short: Worst.Birthday.Ever. Also, the movie sucked. Also I was grounded for a while. Also, screw you Stephen Baldwin. I'll never forgive you.

#2: The Screwdriver: This one's short and dirty. We were walking downtown to get to the Bayou City Art Festival one year. I was trying to run across this one street so I wouldn't get plowed down by a street cleaner truck that was inching its way towards the intersection. I trip over a pothole and fall in such a way that I was facing one direction when I started falling and through some whirlwind falling technique, I end up spinning like one and a half full turns before I hit the ground. Truck is still headed for my now immobile lump of a body in the middle of the steet. My brother comes over and is like "What the hell are you doing?? Unscrew yourself and let's go!" Thereby dubbed the Screwdriver...it forever haunts me.

#3: The 'That's What You Get': Being that I was the youngest and my brother was six years older than me, we had a typical "bully/annoying little sister" relationship. I hardly ever got the upper hand when it came to that little arrangement, but ONCE, one glorious day, I thought I did. My brother broke his bike trying to do a wheelie while being fat. So he was sitting on the curb with his friend while I was riding my bike back and forth in front of him saying obnoxious things like "man, it feels so good to have a bike!" and "wow, I sure do love HAVING A BIKE!" Fast forward about 40 seconds when my brother gets tired of my bullshit and chucks a big ass rock at my back tire as I ride by. In true Murphy's Law fashion, the rock gets stuck in the spoke and the tire stops dead in its track and the whole bike falls over to the side with my big ass still on it. I was riding around with no shoes on like the country bumpkin I was so the pedal squished my chubber toes underneath it. I broke 3 toes! I was like too fat to navigate with crutches so I had to use my dead granny's old Walker to get around the house for like the next 6 weeks. I refused to leave the house...it was all very dramatic. And the worst part was that I couldn't even tattle because as soon as I fell over, my brother ran over and was like IF YOU TELL MOM I'M GONNA KILL YOU WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP! I still believe that threat to be very real.

#4: My Name is Mud: Growing up in Houston, bad weather is just a part of life. Flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, humidity...if it sucks, we get it. So like, a little flash flood, it ain't no thang, really. One day after a short flash flood, I was bored and hungry and tired of being in my house. I asked my dad if he'd take me to get some lunch and he's all "blah blah I ain't takin' muh truck out in these waters blah blah whatever." That's verbatim, by the way. So I was like "well, I'm gonna walk down to the taqueria on the corner, I'm hungry." He just shook his head and said "Go on, can't tell you nothin', do what you want!" So I was like "uhhh....ok." and left. So I get there and have a couple tacos and start to head back and I see that they have the sidewalk taped off because they're doing construction in our neighbor's yard. Being the badass rebel that I am, I scoff and step over the tape and continue on my way. Then WHOOMP (there it is) right into a freaking hole I go. I didn't know they had torn up the sidewalk during the construction and I couldn't see because of the standing floodwater. I'm trying to climb my way outta this damn mud pit and it feels like the harder I fight, the farther I go into the hole. It didn't help that I was wearing some cheap ass Old Navy plastic flipflops that were both firmly planted into the mud by now. I finally got out, but man, my legs were all covered in mud and my shoes were lost in the muddy abyss never to be seen again. Because I didn't wanna listen to my dad's I-told-you-so's, I walked over to the hose in front of our house and hosed off my sad mud-covered legs. Once I thought I was free of the evidence, I went in the house and there was my dad standing at the window fucking cracking up having watched the whole thing transpire. Being the gossipping old lady that he is, I basically had to hear everyone I know tell me my dad had told them all about my fall over the next few days. Argh.

#5: Never Can Say Goodbye: When I as nine years old, my uncle Barney died. My mom's family is from this little hick town in Texas called Belton. Because my uncle was a single dude still, they decided to bury him in the family plot in Belton. I had been to funerals before, for my gramma and my brother-in-law, but I had never been to a country ass funeral like this before. My other uncles had to dig the freaking hole! It was old-timey, to say the least. So maybe it's a Baptist thing, but whenever someone dies, they have that big spray of flowers that they put on top of the casket and after the services, people walk by and take a flower to keep or press or whatever. So being a young annoying kid, I was wayyy in the back of the flower-getting line. By the time I got up there, all that was left were a few weak ass carnations. So once everyone stopped paying attention, I decided to go around to the other side of the casket and get one of the remaining roses that were out of reach. Because my uncles are not professional gravediggers, the hole was all uneven and covered with like a green sheet. Stupid me, took one step too many and there goes my short little fat left leg right into the grave. Trying to teeter the delicate balance of not wanting to plunge all of 6 feet into the hole of uncertain death but also not wanting to call out for help and be made fun of for life, I did what any self-respecting brat would do. I hunkered down and waited for someone to come look for me. Unfornately that someone was my brother who then muttered the now infamous quote "Mom, Tricia's stuck in the gravehole." Enter chaos. I was pulled from impending doom, but now some two decades later, no funeral passes without at least a few comments of "Hey, try not to fall in this time." I have no doubt that when I die, my brother will stand over my coffin and lean over slightly to whisper over my corpse "it's okay to fall in this time, Trishy." Sentimental!

There you have it. This was long, I know, and if you made it this far, you are to be commended. Hopefully you had a few laughs and learned a little something along the way, mostly that my brother is a jerk.

If you have any funny fall stories, consider my comment section your sanctuary.

Trickery...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 03:48:00 +0000

First of all, thanks for the overwhelming response to my giveaway. It was really fun logging in to see all those comments today, especially from some n00bs I never even heard of before. DELURKERS! I had a lot of comments that were like "You should pick me because..." Hmm, seems I may have not properly explained the rules of the game. When I said I would pick a winner, I meant like...out of a hat...or some other hat-like receptacle. I'm not actually choosing a winner based on comment stylings, although, that might be something to think about regarding future giveaways.

Also, I was a little disappointed to see no sexy dancing. Apparently I read this crowd wrong!

So I'm sorry if it was your birthday or you were having a bad day or you just seem really deserving, but it's all in the hands of that cruel mistress, Lady Luck. :( But you still might win, so keep hope alive! I guess I'll do the drawing like...Monday. That's not too far away but there's still time to enter if you haven't already and you secretly want to. Just do it, man!

Speaking of not too far away, I decorated my cubicle all HALLOWEEN-ISH today. It's pretty decked out, as far as cubicles go. I forgot my stinkin' camera but I'll get some pics tomorrow to show you guys so you can pretend to care. I am a child!

I put a big bowl of candy at the very corner of my desk, which is something I do for EVERY holiday, and still EVERY holiday, I have to listen to all the ladies at work bitch about how dare I bring candy into the office. Yet, at the end of the day, half the bowl was gone! I don't care that they eat it, I mean, that's why I put the shit there, but don't bitch me out for a half hour about how you don't eat candy then proceed to eat the damn candy. Just shut up and eat it.

I realize that, like me, you're on a diet every other day, but this is a test of will and if you can't resist free candy, then don't point that finger at me. YOU ARE THE MASTER OF YOUR OWN DESTINY...when it comes to holiday treats.

That being said, I ate 2 Kit Kats and a Twix and I wish I never brought that stupid ass candy to work. As soon as the candy's gone, I'm gonna fill that bucket with Slim Jims and apples and nobody better not say a goddamn word to me about it...I will burn that building down.

Stupid holidays.

Give it away Give it away Give it away now...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 11:00:00 +0000

Good morning, sunshine(s).

As you can no doubt tell from my happiness this early in the morning, clearly I future-dated this post at some ungodly hour last night. I am not a morning person, never will be. But I wanted to post this early because I want lots and lots of people to see it, and enter, and win. Well, I only want one of you to win. Well...okay, I WANT all of you to win, but only one of you CAN win, so...yeah. This confusing paragraph leads me to the following announcement: I AM HAVING MY VERY FIRST FIGHT FAT PHOBIA GIVEAWAY!! Shout it from the rooftops, people.

Here's a picture of the loot!

I made that collage in Picasa. Pretty fancy for me, eh? Here's a list of the stuff that's in it:

The Biggest Loser Glass Digital Kitchen Scale - You want this.
Thermos FUNtainer 10 oz Food Jar - Yeah, this has Bakugan on the front, and like, I dunno what the hell that is, but apparently it's something the kids are into. Alls I know is that this thing is supposed to keep hot stuff hot for 5 hours or cold stuff cold for 7 hours, and that's a lot.
5 Pc Measuring Cup Set AND 5 pc Measuring Spoon Set - In festive fall colors, you will notice.
Lock & Lock 6pc Storage Set - These rule, and they're stainproof, so they're good for tomato-y stuffs.
Egg Dude Precision Measuring Cup - Perfect for those 2 tbsp servings you keep cheating on.
Bell Pedometer - Speed, calorie, distance, and step :)
Fit & Fresh Healthy Food Snacker - holds a snack, a dipping sauce, and an ice ring!
Emerald 100 Calorie Pack Almonds & Walnuts - self explanitory.
Ocean Spray 100 Cal Pack Craisins - 6 pouches!
Two packs of Trident Layers Gum - Strawberry Citrus and Green Apple Pineapple.

So there ya go. It's a lot of stuff, but it's all pretty diet friendly and I promise not to send a surprise tin of brownies or something to try to trick you into staying fat like meeee. The holidays are coming up FAST and I figure we need all the help we can get this time of year, so this BOX 'O STUFF is designed to help you keep your laser sharp focus on that weight loss goal.

It's also to celebrate my 150 Followers. That's a pretty big number for this silly ol' blog and I really appreciate you guys reading about my day to day nonadventures and listening to me whine a lot. And commenting, boy do I love comments! So thanks <3

Here's how to enter for your chance to win!

Leave me a comment telling me how much you love me, or how your day's going, or what your favorite song is, or whatever you want. Just like...leave a comment. 5 word minimum!
Post a link to this post telling others about the AWESOME FAT FIGHT PHOBIA GIVEAWAY and comment me telling me you did it.
Record yourself doing a sexy dance for me. (this counts as five entries!)

That's it! So go ahead and enter because I'm gonna be bummed if I did all this work and I get like 4 entries and 3 of them are mine. I will quit blogging forever...IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?? Yeah, you don't want that on your soul, dudes. Good luck, guys!

P.S. Before you ask: Yes, UK and Canadian residents can enter and possibly even win, and Yes, I already told Dina she can't win. There. Now go!

We wore an onion in our belt, which was the style at the time...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 22:31:00 +0000

Yesterday I spent the day babysitting Jeff's neices and nephews since their parents needed an "alone" day which I later found out meant "a day to get really drunk." Whatevs, it's not like I had anything better to do so I thought...okay. In theory, it sounded like a good idea. I thought I could go over there and run around with five kids and get all tired out and come home for a good nite's sleep. But...I guess the kids had ideas of their own.

I had visions of long games of hide n seek and possibly a group craft project. Yeah, not so much. These kids are freaking tech-savvy and they don't need me or any other adult ruining their saturday with my handicraft ideas. Even the 6-year-old was on his damn Nintendo DS all day long. I was less like a babysitter, more like a recorded voice saying "did you already have a soda? Okay then you can't have another soda. DRINK SOME WATER!"

The oldest girl is on her laptop on FaceBook all day...the two young ones are eyes glued to the Disney Channel...and the boys were playing Call of Duty for what seemed like days. Man, what a boring game to watch. Too many dimensions for me. Give me a fat italian plumber jumping on mushrooms any day instead of this crap.

I came to a sad realization yesterday: I'm old. I'm just not cool enough anymore! I used to be the cool aunt! The one who was up on pop music and had the newest video game system and could kick ass at Skee-Ball. Now I'm just the lame old aunt with my stories about how "in my day we played a MAGICAL video game called Galaga and it was from OUTER SPAAACE" yeah yeah, meanwhile they're counting down the days until they can put their crazy old unmarried aunt into the home. I didn't even know who Lady Gaga was until like 3 days ago. I just want Pearl Jam and flannel back. Flannel was a good look for fat people...skinny jeans, not so much.

Oh well, I guess I couldn't expect to stay current forever. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room stuck in 1996, thanks.

You guys are talking about Shenanigans, right?

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 16:03:00 +0000

Hey guys. How's it goin'?

Things here are going JUST OKAY...which is better than bad, but not quite the AWESOME that I strive for. The weather's starting to cool off a tiny bit finally and it's giving me HALLOWEEN FEVER! I've been obsessed with Halloween since I spotted candy pumpkins at Walgreens about a week ago, then proceeded to eat a bag. Sigh. I'm trying to get more into the spirit of Halloween this year by doing things like decorating and sending my neices and nephews little gifts so I don't feel the need to overcompensate in the candy aisle. HALLOWEEN DOESN'T HAVE TO BE ABOUT CANDY! Just keep saying that, right?

Diet-y things are lackluster. I don't know where my motivation has gone. It seems like I wake up with a new resolve each morning but it rarely lasts all the way to dinnertime. I need some stick-to-it-ness. I've lost about .4 in the past 3 weeks, and that ain't gonna cut it. Twice this week I packed a lunch, then still went out with the girls for a fast food lunch. Stupid and wasteful. And I'm supposed to be saving money for Cleveland! Bad.

I watched Biggest Loser and was SUPER STOKED to find a girl on there that's actually heavier than me. I never thought I'd see the day. We're the same height and age too. It'll be interesting to see how she holds up under the extreme stress since she already almost quit on like day one. I think she'll turn it around and kick some ass though. I'm really rooting for her for my own selfish reasons so I hope she stops all that crying and kicks the shit outta that ranch. (maybe I should be saying that to myself...except...I don't have a ranch. I don't even like ranch dressing.)

Oh hey, we won at trivia finally! YAY! First place! The British dude was back in town, obviously. Plus there was a Foo Fighters question...be still my beating heart! We got a $100 bar tab, but I wasn't even drinking so...wonk wonk. Oh well, at least everyone was in a good mood and no tantrums were had. Here's the gang, all ugly of us:

The Office starts tonight! Man, I do love the fall. And Community, which I'm excited about even though it has Chevy Chase and he's like a sitcom killer. Sure hope it doesn't suck. And I hope The Office gets better cause last season was kinda wonky. I like saying wonk lately, can you tell?

I noticed yesterday that my fatness is effecting my shopping. On one hand, it could help me save money. On the other hand, it's like my only hobby. I'm nothing with my clearance bargain-hunting! Gotta get on this shit. If diabetes and a heart condition can't motivate me, then surely a 75% off clearance sale has to. Help me, Target, you're my only hope.

This entry is all over the place, so I'm gonna put it out of it's misery. Hope you're all doing well and enjoying life.

Oh yeah, and I'm still hunting and gathering for my Grand Give-away. I should have it all together by this weekend. I know, I know...tease tease tease. Stay tuned...

Ruiner.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 07:05:00 +0000

You ever feel yourself losing control of your emotions over something stupid and it gets to that point where you're not really sure why you're mad but it's too late to just back out of it at that point? It's like I'm looking at myself from outside my body and saying "man, this girl is a bitch. Oh shit, that's me." I need a reset button on the back of my neck that I can just push and snap out of my craziness. Sometimes I think I just piss myself off so I have a reason to keep believing I'm not worth it.

So...just stop it, Tricia. fuck.

I am real antsy. Like, annoyingly so. Everything I owned is either torn to shreds or all doodled on because I have this nervous energy I can't harness into doing good things like...say, cleaning my house or painting or something so I just write scribbles and cubes and annoy people with my nervousness. Sometimes it gets real bad and I rip out hair. Mostly from my eyebrows. I try not to let it get too bad cause I don't need to add to my weird appearance by sporting eyebrow bald spots. I'll just say that lately they are looking shitty and I dunno why I'm so fucking stressed. I have this internal racing clock that's not even leading me towards anything, so I don't get it.

Breakfast and lunch are all packed for tomorrow and if I can stay within my calories all week, I think I'll go get my eyebrows waxed because at least when they're groomed well, I tend to fuck with them less. So annoying. Not that I think I should get a prize each week for staying on plan, but...at least it's not a cookie cake. Even though I'd prefer that.

Bleh...hey Monday.

First off, let's kill all the fat people...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 12:00:00 +0000

Bipartisanship. It's a word that gets tossed around a lot lately. A buzz word, if you will. It basically refers to when members of two parties can find some common ground and actually agree on something. It's pretty hard to achieve these days. So imagine my surprise when I found a common bond with a member of the League of Extraordinarily Fat Gentlemen. My mortal arch nemesis Fat Daddy actually said something that wasn't all full of male chauvanistic vigor. Shocking, I know. :P

The message was simple: Fat...it ain't all bad. Then the heavens opened and I realized that all these extra pounds aren't always such a curse and maybe Freddy Mercury was right (of course he was!) and Fat Bottom Girls really DO make the rockin' world go round!

Look, we all wanna be healthy and skinny, but don't deny that you and your fat had some good times together. Even the most miserable fattie has had at least a few moments in their life where they were Pumped to be Clump. Admit it!

In honor of fatties everywhere, I present to you my Top 5 reasons why Fat Rules:

#1. People don't ask you to help them move. - Especially if they live on anything other than a ground floor, because people who know me know I can barely do stairs just carrying my own fat ass, let alone like a lamp or their Faberge Egg Collection (Sorry, Carlos). Seriously, no one wants me standing around getting in the way of all those skinny jerks working like dogs. Fine by me, too. I barely even helped myself move. I conveniently scheduled most of if during my working hours, and I still have boxes of crap that I haven't even looked at twice from my move like 4 months ago. Some may call it lazy, but I call it smart...and lazy.

#2. Automatic Shotgun. - Think about it. Your friend's driving you and three other friends somewhere. Fattest gets the front seat. This is just like, the law. So sit there and enjoy your own air conditioning vent while the others share whatever air can sneak past your broad shoulders. You need that air...you're fat.

#3: Fat people are more huggable. - Go on, you know you want to. Who doesn't want a squishy shoulder to cry on?

#4: You get to eat what you want. - This is a given. Can't choose between the kettle korn or the funnel cake? Just get both. If you're gonna be fat, at least be fat for a reason. A deep-fried-powdered-sugared-caramel-drizzled reason.

#5: Girls trust you around their men. - Oh god, so dumb. Don't they know how horny fat girls are? Very cocky of these skinny friends to assume their dude would never be into you just because you're fat. Not that I would EVER, because I am a good friend, and also, ew sex. BUT...I'm sure it has happened before. I believe it was the once-fat Monique who said every man wants to be with a real fattie at least once. And once you go fat, you never go back. Or so I hear...

So there you have it. I'm sure there are lots of great things about being post-fat...(not that I'd know...) but don't forget to enjoy your fat perks while you still can! Stop by Fat Daddy's blog and take a gander at his top 5 reasons too. And hey, while you're at it, why not come up with your OWN top 5? Post it on your blog and share your fat acceptance with the world!

Now let's get out there and get us some healthcare!

Took it too far? Oh, okay. My bad.

Iron my shirt, bitch.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 01:20:00 +0000

ATTENTION!

I would like to formally announce that the League of Extraordinarily Fat Gentlemen is a living example of pure sexist bullshit and I won't stand for it!

I think, eat, talk, swear, and pee like a man, so I would like to know where is my goddamn invite.
SEXISM!

P.S. I finally hit 150 Followers, yay! In honor of that, I'm doing a giveaway soon. A bunch of random shit that you will LOVE, so check back in a few days once I get it all ready to go. I'll announce it after the next Vag-tastic Vixen Coalition Meeting. NO BOYS ALLOWED.

Oh hai.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 21:02:00 +0000

Hey. I'm not dead or anything, I've just had writer's block and a bad attitude lately. I don't really like blogging when I'm all down on myself and pissed at the world. I end up reading it later and cringing at how I'm coming across as a whiny puss. I also haven't been reading or commenting much...sorry about that.

Not much has been up with me aside from trying to eat myself into an early grave. Earli(er) at least. And spending too much money on shit I don't need then panicking about being broke. Classic Tricia.

It's okay though. I'm slowly crawling out of my funk. Buying groceries tomorrow then putting away the debit cards in a tall tall place I can't reach...like the moon. Gonna try Phase 4,512 of the diet and see how that works. Fall is kinda in the air so it's helping my mood a little. I even went out to see a band play last night and I have the $80 hangover to prove it. Bleh.

So...my sister still won't talk to me. My sadness is fading into bitterness and I'm starting to wonder if she's worth all the sleepless hours spent wondering how it's so easy for some people to push others out of their lives. It's her choice. I've done my part and she knows where to find me if she decides to get over her fucking 43-year-old tantrum. My official new fear in life is turning out like either one of my sisters. Raw chicken and ghosts now take 2nd and 3rd place, respectively.

As you can no doubt see, the writer's block is still very alive and present. I'll try hard not to disappear for a week at a time from now on though. Barring anymore cancer announcements, I should be able to oblige. How's shit in your neck of the woods? Tell me everything!

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 03:50:00 +0000

I found out tonight that my sister has breast cancer. She still won't answer my calls.

I don't get this stupid fucking grudge. All I want is to talk to her and find out what the situation is and how she's doing and to ask if I can help. I don't even understand why she's so mad at everybody.

The only reason I know is because she told my nephew that she's dying. He had no details.

When my neice called to see what was going on, she said she saw no point in telling any of us because no one in this family cares about her. I don't know if she's intentionally picking these fights with everyone just to distance herself so she can deal with it alone or what. She fabricates these situations to make everything worse when really we all need each other right now and everyone's too fucking stubborn to just deal with shit. It's really fucking stupid.

I just feel sick and sad and pissed. I don't know what to do.

DisneyLand burned down.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 02:21:00 +0000

Today was very Monday-ish.

Work was all busy and stressful and Amber quit, which didn't help things. She told me last week she was going to quit because she got another job, but I guess she ended up sending a text to my boss telling her she was quitting and moving back to California because she was leaving her husband. That turned out to be a big fat lie. I hate when people let me in on some insider info, but then forget to tell me important details like "OH YEAH THIS IS THE LIE I'M TELLING THE BOSS SO DON'T FUCK IT UP FOR ME."

So when my boss comes over to my desk today all sad like "Did you hear about Amber?" I'm all..."uhhhhhhhhhhhh." Quick thinker, that's what I am. Luckily I caught myself before I blurted out "OH YOU MEAN ABOUT HER COOL NEW JOB??" That...woulda been bad.

I dunno why she had to lie about it anyway. Suckers.

I obviously don't have anything to blog about so just read this:

Goodbye.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 07:30:00 +0000

There's this guy I used to be really into. He lives in New Jersey and I've known him for almost a decade now. We're the same age and we have a comparable sense of humor so it was sometimes fun to talk to him. But I hadn't heard from him in almost a year because he was dating a girl so I was suddenly out of the picture. We've never actually met or anything so it's not like I had some crushing separation anxiety or something. It's just what it was.

The thing about this dude is that he would call me deep deeeep into the night. After a night of drinking. Like he would ONLY call me drunk. And horny. And most times (read: all times) the conversation would turn to sex and like yeah, you know where this ends up. And it bothered me because I actually did LIKE talking to him, for like the four minutes of jokes and real talk I could get before I hear weird noises coming from the other end of the phone. Aside from that fun four minutes, the dude was pretty much an asshole to me. And I let him be. For...like...a really long time.

There's this joke that's like:

Q: Why are fat girls so good at oral sex?
A: Because they have to be.

Yeah, haha, real funny.

We're smart interesting people. We're funny and awesome and yet we're so often the butt of the joke. The reason it bothers me is simple: We let it happen. I know I'm not the only one.

So when ol' Jersey signs into chat the other day and says hi to me, why does my heart skip a beat? It's so fucking stupid. Why do I want to talk to someone who blatantly uses me and treats me like crap? Am I so desperate for attention from the male sex that I'm willing to partake in a self-esteem crushing relationship just for a random four minutes of talk? It's fucking ridiculous.

I realize my relationship with Jeff is not exactly ideal, and I am able to admit that at least half of it is my fault due to my own fucked up self-loathing and fear of intimacy. But like...despite my crap...he's still nice to me. And tries to make me feel like I'm not just someone to get him off occasionally and otherwise treat like some circus freak. He never tries to belittle me or make me feel like I should be ashamed of the way I look. He tells me I'm pretty even if I don't believe it...so WHY do I still feel this need to like grasp at any droplet of attention thrown my way? UGH SO FRUSTRATING.

I've never actually "cheated." Like, obviously if I'm not having sex with Jeff, I'm not going to have sex with anyone else. That would just be fucked up. But I do still have these thoughts in my head like any time a guy will even give me the time of day. I think I'm so used to being invisible to guys that if they even acknowledge my existence, I'm willing to let them walk all over me just for the occasional "hey Tricia."

I ignored his chat the other day. I ignored him when he texted me at 1:15am on a fucking TUEDSAY night. Then tonite when I was home alone at 11:47 (2:47 Jersey time, fyi), he called my cell. I was lonely and bored. I didn't pick up. I just let it ring. It was probably like the nicest thing I've ever done for myself.

I shouldn't have to talk to you about fucking you for you to like me. If my super fucking charming personality isn't enough for you, then I won't pander for your attention anymore. I'm sure there are plenty of other fat lonely girls out there who will take your call at 3am, but that's not me anymore. I can't expect to ever lose weight and have a decent shot at life if I can't learn to not hate myself, and I don't need you to help me fail. Consider this goodbye even though you never read this because the central focus point of my blog isn't your dick.

As a personal aside, I would like to say that I DO NOT think all guys are assholes. But some are. Just like some women are assholes. I'm just happy to have one less asshole in my life.

Cheer me up!

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 16:28:00 +0000

I'm all grumped up today.

You guys wanna tell me a joke or something? That'd be cool. Do that.

A fat.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 18:10:00 +0000

Just a little mid-afternoon delight...

Days like this totally make it worth having a website that tells you how people find your blog.

So...how's your Thursday goin'?

Don't forget Project Runway starts tonite tonite tonite tonite tonite tonite! 2Nite. Tonight.

Forreal.

I still hate Fred Durst.

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 06:08:00 +0000

Dear Dr. Atkins:

I fear that I have failed you yet again. I ate some pretzels.

All apologies,
Tricia

P.S. It wasn't my fault!

We had our semi-annual blood drive at work today and I usually always donate because a) it gets me off the phone for like a good half-hour... b) you usually get some free tickets to something ...and c) saving lives and whatnot. My dad practically lived on transfused blood through most of the 80s so I feel as though it's my karmic duty to pay a little back.

Well I went in there to do the interview thing where they ask you 5 million questions about whether or not you've even been to Mexico or fucked a prostitute or had sex with a man who had sex with another man. (no, no, yes, respectively. kidding...kinda.) Anywho the lady was like "you qualify to donate red blood cells, we would love for you to do that if you have a little extra time." For some reason, this came across to me like I just won some grand award or something. Extra time off the phone? Yes please.

Of course, I didn't know she meant TWO FREAKING HOURS. It wouldn't have really taken that long but the dude on the machine before me was what the lady lovingly called a "slow bleeder" so I had to wait around for a brick of time. Luckily for me, my daily aspirin makes me a "good bleeder" so if there's ever a contest over who can bleed to death the fastest, I got that shit in the bag. THE BODY BAG, that is! See what I did there? eh eh?

My boss kept coming in there like doing that thing people do where they look at their wrist like they're wearing some imaginary watch and saying "still??" Jesus lady, I'm bleeding as fast as I can!

Anyway, the process is like they take 2 pints, then put some saline or some junk in there and then the machine separates your red blood cells then gives you back your useless stinkin' blood. I didn't mind doing it, but I felt super weird the rest of the day. Like anytime I would stand up, I'd have a wicked head rush. My boss was like "you look pale, you should eat some cookies." I was all "no sir, no carbies!" Then I started to get the major woozies so I compromised and had a baggie of pretzels. 23g of carbs, so not TERRIBLE...but still. I forgive myself cause it's better than fainting and getting clowned at work.

So yeah, usually they give us like some pretty good show tickets for doing this jazz. This time they gave us a freaking tshirt and a certificate for a dang cookie. A COOKIE?? C'mon! I mean, I love cookies, don't get me wrong, but I'd rather have those Penn & Teller tickets they were giving out LAST month. Oh well.

Plus the shirt was like an XL...yeah right...how 'bout you add about 5 more Xs on there and we can talk? I stuffed my wide body in there like ground pork into a sausage casing so I could show you guys. Is that love or WHAT?

Yeah, that's Jeff's bathroom, and yes, he had just got off the toilet. Before you even ax. I don't care, I literally have no shame.

So that was my day. Now tell me about yours!

ALSO...you know, my work has like some of the comment boxes disabled and since I do most of my blog reading at work, sometimes I never get to comment some of you peeps. I dunno what the application is that's making it block or else I'd ask you all to kindly remove it. I just don't want you cats thinkin' I'm some stuck up bitch who thinks she's too cool to comment. So...yeah.

Winner winner low-carb dinner...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 05:37:00 +0000

Whew...one whole completely carbless day down. Cutting the insulin seems to have worked so that's a relief. As far as being diabetic goes, I'm not the best, but I am trying a little harder since I think it would make my mom sad to see me being so lackluster with my health given the fact that she died from like all the shit I have now. I'm trying, Mom! Kindly lay off. Thanks, love ya!

We went to trivia tonite and actually DIDN'T LOSE! Well, 2nd place, which any Ricky Bobby fan will tell you is really just the 1st Loser, but it's still better than 4th! I got a couple good ones so I was happy. Truth be told, I think we only won because the British dude was back in town. That dude is too dang smart. He knows the headscratchers that we always have to guess on. Good times.

It was also Angel's birthday so there was CAKE. Those dirty fucking bastards. I stayed strong. Not even a bite. You guys shoulda seen me...I was in rare form. "Cake? Oh heavens no. None for me, thanks!" So everyone around me ate cake and drank beer and I had like 6 damn glasses of water. Kinda made me feel like an asshole, but whatever. I'm over it and I feel accomplished, so it was worth it. Cake looked kinda dry anyway (not that I still wouldn't have buried my face in there and motorboated that sumbitch.)

Here's some pics, then I'm going to sleep cause I am freaking tired. Nite dudes.

About 30 candles short, but whatever...

Dirty cake bandit.

Documented proof that we don't suck that bad when there's at least one british dude present to answer all the questions about American History.

Fonzin' it.

Taking you as low as you go...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 17:50:00 +0000

My own stupidness led me to break the no-carb rule yesterday. Gah. Like a dummy, I took my full shot of insulin on Sunday night without even thinking that I'd be eating no carbs all day Monday. Needless to say, I got a little low.

I was actually fine until I started driving home from work. The low blood sugar mixed with the molten hot afternoon weather made for an interesting 10 minute drive home, to say the least. I got this weird dizzy highness that I've only felt one other time before, in an incident I like to call "The Dentist's Office, 1997." The ceiling tiles started dancing around and I freaked out and ripped the mask thing off my face and started mumbling some junk about not liking it and I swore off the gas forever! SuperNerd.

Luckily I didn't do anything stupid yesterday like crash or die. I found some LifeSavers in the center console and took care of business even though they were all chewy and melty and weird. Another victim of the Las Vegas heat, but at least they helped. I got home and had some juice and all was well again. Still...pretty stupid. Rookie mistake!

I cut my dosage in half last night so we'll see how today fares. I got my emergency hard candies crammed in the bottom of my purse now like a true elderly-lady-about-town. Whatevs...gots to do what we gots to do.

She Choppin' Broccoliiii...

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 15:18:00 +0000

Is Blogger still being crappy? I'm blogging at 8:18 in the AM so maybe you'll be able to see it by some time next week. You know, I left FreeWebs for this kinda faulty service, so please try harder, Blogger! Be a better representative of the great awesome amazing Google that made you. (swoon...I love you, googz!)

It's Day One of SUGAR DETOX. Sigh. I actually feel somewhat optimisitic, which is rare for me, so gimme a second to breathe it all in. Low-carb's not terrible. I mean, at least I can eat meat. And ceasar salads. I am a freaking dinosaur, all I need is meat, leaves and a promise of impending doom to keep me going. Trishceratops.

I wanna try to like, not let it be like the last time I did low (no) carbs. That weird diet of nothing all day then like...a side of beef for dinner. I wanna make sure I eat at least one salad a day and not have pickles be my only vegetable. I dunno how I did that shit for ten months without ever cheating once. So unlike me. Then I ate a peanut butter cup on Halloween and gained 40 pounds that hour. True story.

Some part of me thinks that doing Atkins again is like going back to an old boyfriend. Things were good at first. Then we both started to find small ways to cheat on each other that turned into major abuse until we finally just agreed to an amicable split. And I walked away with a promise to NEVER go back. BUT HERE I AM. Because I miss the way he made my ass smaller. And how I could walk without wanting to die. It's like you know that he'll do...for now...but you just don't see him as being the one in your life forever. Still better than getting fatter while I search for my Life Partner Diet though.

Anyway, in conclusion, here goes nothing.

P.S. My assistant manager at work always wears this freaking perfume that smells like cupcakes. I guess it's vanilla or some shit, but she puts SO much of it on and then walks all around the cubicles essentially turning this place into Charm City Cakes. Today, I can't decide if I want to kill her or eat her. I just wish she'd get a less appetizing perfume. Like eau de broccoli.

Ups and Downs....

fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com (Tricia) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 20:53:00 +0000

What a day, what a day. At least it's Friday...and payday! Whew, needed that in a bad, bad way. Much like my food hoarding ways, I'm also a money hoarder. I have like 5 bank accounts with a tiny amount tucked away in each because I feel like I need that backup plan. Even though essentially it's the same amount of money as if I just kept it all in one account, I just can't stand the thought of having all my eggs in one basket. So I hide 40 bucks in all these accounts and I have Snickers bars tucked away in sock drawers and baskets of old mail. Seriously...mental problems.

Today is a weird day.

It's my brother's birthday...which is good. I LOVE MY BROTHER! Against my better judgement, I ended up getting him the Booty Doll Statue thing he wanted. All personal politics aside, it's what he wanted and it's his birthday so why the hell not? I usually have like a strict $50 budget for birthdays, but he's been working hard having to take care of my dad so I figured it was worth the splurge. I really appreciate him being so responsible about everything and not trying to shove it in my face or anything like SOME siblings tend to do. He's just a good dude like that.

It's also my neice's birthday...which sucks. She would have been 31 today...the same as me. She was like ALL ABOUT BIRTHDAYS so it's weird when this day comes and like...there's nothing. I called a local party store back home and ordered some balloons and my dad agreed to take them out to the cemetary today for her. It really just sucks...I miss her a lot and still think about her everyday. It's been just over a year so it's still a pretty fresh hurt and I still get that stinging about-to-cry feeling in my nose anytime I think about her too much...or at all. Sigh.

My sister sent out a text this morning that said "It's Crystal's birthday today. Keep her in your heart." We had a short nice text chat after that and it was probably the most I've spoken to her in like the last six months. The other one's still not speaking to me so at this point, I'll take what I can get. I'm slowly getting adjusted to the fact that my dream of having that Rockwell Christmas-type family is pretty much over. The fact that they're not all trying to murder each other will have to do for now.

On the diet front, I think I'm gonna have to go through some sort of no-carb detox for a week or two to try to curb these psycho cravings lately. I'm gonna buy some different groceries this week and start that on Monday. Not that I'm going all nutso in the meantime...but I've definitely been less than ideal.

Oh yeah, and due to a local drought, Jeff has forcibly decided to stop smoking pot for a month and see if he can live without it. He's SUPER irritable already and it's only day 2. Gonna be a long month. I'm proud of him for trying though, even though he kinda had no choice. But still...it'll be a real moneysaver if he can kick the habit. We can start doing extravagant things like going to see a movie or filling up the gas tank. HIGH ON THE HOG, SON!

Have a peachy weekend, pals.