Fight Fat Phobia

Get me offa this crazy thing...

2011-07-05T13:48:00.000-07:00

So I lost 4.8 this week, which is pretty good considering I fucked up at least several times, and there was a holiday in there. Mostly I just tried to not go freaking crazy like I was in some competitive eating contest when I got home from work each day and other than that, I was pretty relaxed with the rules. I even had pizza and a cupcake. It had pink glitter on it. EDIBLE GLITTER! What a time to be alive!

That being said, I kinda feel like shit today. My dad's in the hospital because he has pretty close to zero percent bloodflow getting to his feet at this point and he has an infection on one of his toes that his body can't fight off because of the nonflow of blood. So they're going to try to put a stint into one of his lower arteries to see if it helps, but if not, he's definitely facing amputation of some, if not all, of his foot. That fucking sucks. He's already almost 80...I kinda wish he wouldn't have to go through a bunch of painful shit in the years he has left.

I feel bad that I can't be there. Everything costs too much and I can't afford to miss work at all. I just call a lot and hope for the best. I hope he'll be okay.

It's been raining the last three days in Las Vegas. Some lady probably killed her daughter and got away with it, yet I got in trouble for clocking in two minutes late today. And I lost weight. The world is weird right now.

The New FatVentures of Old TrishDina

2011-07-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

You know, I don't like blogging about being on a diet all the time. I don't even like being on a diet, so why the hell would I wanna write about it all the time? When I go over to Jeff's sister's house, she has that book YOU, On a Diet all prominently displayed on her coffee table and I always think "man, what a terrible idea for a book!" Then I see that New York Times #1 Best Seller sticker on the front and I realize that nobody cares what I think, even though it's still a stupid idea for a book.

You, On a Diet
By: Some Rich Jerk

Chapter One:
You are hungry.

The End.

That'll be $34.95.

That being said, I kinda like writing about being fat because sometimes being fat is comical, even though it mostly sucks...which is why I'm doing all this dieting business in the first place. So like, I kinda HAVE to write about dieting. Even if I do hate it. Cause I need it. To keep me on track and shit. And so you guys can be all "YOU CAN DO IT" and/or "STOP BEING A FATTIE" depending on how bad/good I'm doing at the time.

So I guess for all intents and purposes, this is my dieting blog. It's been with me through the ups and downs and you're all here for me still (amazingly!) and I don't wanna give it up and start a new one and pretend like this isn't my one billionth attempt at weight loss blogging, you know? So I'm definitely keeping it...BUT...

Me and Dina do have a new blog. A combo blog! A COMBLOG! It's supposed to be about our adventures being fat girls in the world, but so far it's not really about much. But it'll probably get better because she's awesome and I'm awesome, so I mean, what's the worse that could happen? (complete internet implosion...) There's only a few entries now, but it feels weird not letting you guys in on it, so HERE IT IS! So please...come join us...add us...comment us...often.

And as always, thanks for being my bitchin' support system. Even when I give up on myself and disappear for months at a time. You guys rule <3

And so it begins...

2011-06-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

In true fattie fashion, I am starting this new not-a-diet-seriously-don't-call-it-a-diet-unless-you-wanna-hear-my-six-minute-speech-about-how-it's-NOT-a-diet Diet on a Monday. I felt I needed the last few days to get shit in order. Cook some meals, stock up on good shit, get the junk outta my house, eat some Ben & Jerry's, etc.

I actually got a lot more accomplished this weekend than just stuffing my face. Listen, I'm not proud to admit that I'm a bit of a hoarder. TLC has turned that word into some kinda scary psycho diagnosis where the mere mention of it brings about images of layers of empty pizza boxes and dead cats at least six feet high in some elderly person's apartment. But mine's slightly less impactful. I just like to keep shit. It used to be called "being a packrat" until old people started dying from being smothered by their own collections of tin cans and old newspapers so the medical field felt the need to put a label on it. So a hoarder I became.

Truth be told, I've had this giant stack of cardboard boxes in the corner of my living room since the day we moved in. In total, it was 21 boxes...all filled with mystery! Well, mostly Jeff's old sci-fi books and textbooks and random clothes of sizes gone-by, but still.

The real problem is that it's embarrassing and I don't let people come hang out at my house because I don't wanna hear a lecture about it or worse, have people talk about it behind my back. I don't like people knowing I'm some weirdo who can't let go of what is literally boxes upon boxes of trash cluttering my life.

But Saturday night, I did something awesome! I got off my couch and took my TiVo remote and actually PAUSED Cupcake Wars (who will win?? I DON'T KNOW...what is that French guy saying??? I DON'T KNOWWW!!!), and started going through those stupid boxes!

Five hours and three full Lawn & Leaf trash bags later, the corner was empty! I was all sweaty and covered in dust, but I felt accomplished. And it really wasn't ALL THAT HARD...I just needed to do it. I wondered why I waited two years to attack it when it was so easy to overcome once I just set my mind to it and got the shit done. I wondered why I pushed so many people away because I was ashamed of how it looked then cried when I felt like I was so alone? I wondered how much longer I would have just dealt with the pile being a part of my life if I hadn't just decided to do something about it right there in that moment?

The irony isn't lost on me.

It's time to get rid of my own garbage and stop being ashamed of myself and start letting people in. I can have the life I want or I can keep existing in this life I hate...it's up to me.

Just gotta get off the couch...

Time is an illusion.

2011-06-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

How the fuck is it already almost July??

This was supposed to be MY year. The year I finally got all my shit together and stopped wasting my life being fat and miserable. That was supposed to start in January. Now it's June. I'm fatter than ever. More miserable than ever. Pissed off and depressed. Just...mad at myself.

Being mad isn't very constructive though. It never changed anything before and it's probably not gonna start changing things now. So I'm trying to be proactive about this shitty feeling about life that I've had lately.

I went to the psychiatrist yesterday for the first time in six months. I ran out of all those anti-depressants he put me on like a month ago, but he wouldn't refill them until I came in to see him. But since I have that $3,000 deductible this year (Seriously, what is the point??), I had to put it off for a while. You know how they tell you not to suddenly stop taking antidepressants? Turns out they're actually telling you that for a reason! Holy shit, I've totally been so down on life. I never wanna leave my house and I don't want people around and I don't wanna do ANYTHING and I just turned into a fucking asshole in like...a week.

Was I like that before drugs? I don't even remember. Maybe it was worse because I found out what it felt like to be semi-happy, then it all went away like some weird backwards fairy tale or something. All I know is...it sucked. Gimme those damn pills.

My health...is awful. I'm winded walking from my car to my apartment, and if you'll remember, I live on the first floor. I feel like shit all the time. I've been watching all these shows on Netflix and YouTube about like the moment you die and what happens to your body when you're actually legitimately dying. I have this weird morbid fascination that I'm constantly about to take my last breath. I don't even know what the fuck that is about unless it's some scare tactic I'm trying to use to convince myself to make a diet last more than 4 hours. So far...it hasn't worked.

Long story short (too late!), July will be December and I'll either still be fucking around or I can just start now. I got the pills, I got the healthy food, I got the will to live...I guess I'm out of excuses. Wish me luck?

Why I'll Never Be a Famous Socialite.

2011-03-14T05:21:00.000-07:00

I've never been much of a "party girl." Aside from my ever-so-dangerous love of cupcakes and balloons, my partying has always been rather tame. I'm usually the designated driver, even on my own birthday most years. And I'm not about to get all preachy here and go into a "don't be such a sloppy drunk" lecture...because we all have our demons. But I think last night I really understood why I can never fully relax and have a good time when I'm out.

We all know I have my insecurities, and they pretty much rule my life. Not by choice, but what are you gonna do, right? I don't let them fully turn me into a hermit as is exhibited by the fact that I did go out on Saturday night. Me and a bunch o' pals gathered up to hit some bars and listen to some bands at our favorite local casino, and for the most part, it was pretty fun.

That is, until one drunk-ass Angel, one of the said pals, decided we needed to go to a "classier" bar. You know those bars...they're full of trendy douchebags spending nine dollars for a shot of Jaeger and sucking on a hookah with six more frat boys who look at me like I just farted in their mouth because I dared to walk past their eyeline in all my fat glory. I don't know if you guys know this, but the Las Vegas nightlife is not very fat-friendly. Girls wear six inch heels and half a shimmery pillowcase for a dress and everyone's stumbling around and giggling. It's no place for a girl like me!

After about seven billion looks of disgust (i.e. 2 minutes in there), I said I couldn't take it anymore and that I was going back to the bar we just left to go watch fat guys play beer pong where I feel more at home. Angel stayed. An hour later, her boyfriend is literally dragging her ass back over to where we were. I dunno what happened in that hour. I can only assume the nine dollars you pay for the shot comes with a tab of Rohypnol because this bitch was OUT. He put her in a chair and tried to get her to wake up since I was their ride home and I wasn't ready to go. Needless to say, no one explained to me that she was like, legally dead at the fucking table. So, obviously, we had to go.

I had a point here. OH YEAH...so this fucking dude who is her boyfriend this week, like hefted her ass up in his arms and just fucking carried her allllllllll the way outta the casino, out to the parking lot, out to the car, laid her head down gently in the backseat and like got in next to her to cradle her head while I chauffered their asses home. Um...THAT is why I can never be that drunk. Sure, it's all The Bodyguard/An Officer and a Gentleman when it's involving some 98 pound chick like Angel. But if my big ass was to ever fall out like that in a public place, I have a feeling I'd either be sleeping it off on some dirty-ass casino carpet or someone would just like push me into a corner and put a broom handle under my chins or something so I could look like I was still partying Bernie-style. I COULD NEVER LET MYSELF HAVE THAT MUCH FUN (?) BECAUSE NO ONE WANTS TO TAKE CARE OF A SLOPPY MESSY DRUNK FATTIE. Period.

Like, in theory, I wanna think that no one wants to take care of some slopped out chick/guy EVER...but I dunno. This dude seemed like happy and proud. Captain Save-A-Ho strikes again. Like it's endearing to take care of someone like that because she's so tiny and needy...like a baby bird or something. I just...don't get it. Like all bitterness and jealousy aside, I seriously don't get it.

Anyway, it's not like I'm saying I wanna be thin and attractive so society will be okay with me getting fall-over drunk. I'm just saying...Chris Farley is dead and Charlie Sheen still walks amongst the living. Discuss.

I thought they said no news is good news?

2011-02-28T05:02:00.000-08:00

It's hard to find a jumping-off point for updating your weight-loss blog when everything can really just be summed up with:

But I shall try...

Not a lot's been going on with me in the last...oh, let's see...four months (?) since I last blogged. Seems a lot longer all spelled out in words and whatnot. What can I say? Time flies when you're over-celebrating the holidays and blissfully unaware that your ass has grown to the size of a planet. Not one of those fake-ass planets like Pluto either. I mean a real one...like...the Earf.

Truth be told, I've only gained about twelvish pounds. Which, don't get me wrong, is nothing to be proud of. But I've really, and I mean REALLY, been packing away the junk these last few months. I mean, I haven't even TRIED to diet. I dunno what happened, really. I know my pants were getting tighter. Everything just hurts and sucks and it's like "bleh." But rational thinking took a big fucking long vacation and in its place came just this weird random brain tornado of guiltless pleasure telling me to watch Jersey Shore and eat fried chicken and donuts and yeah, let's go watch that Justin Bieber movie! Large popcorn, please.

Ugh...disgusting. I know.

I can't explain it.

I just never even thought about it. I know I look like shit. I know I feel like shit. But...it was okay. Because...right now, in this minute - nothing matters. This minute that has lasted, I dunno, four months? A year? 32 years, really? When will anything ever matter enough?

Thanks for checking in on me. I didn't die or have a stroke or anything. I just had a temporary lapse in fat judgement.

I'm going on a trip to Texas in about a month. All 400 pounds of me. Flying fat again...oh joy. It'll be my first time going home since my dad ran over my foot like a year and a half ago, almost. At least this time if he decides he needs to make a comment about my overall rotund-ness, I can point to my giant foot scar and remind him that it's not that easy to get around when some old dude runs you over on an airport driveway. The King of Guilt has met his match.

I'll try to update more. Hope you're all well.

Hell is for childrennnn...

2010-11-02T05:26:00.000-07:00

As always, Halloween is the one event of my entire year that really really really matters. Aside from my birthday...which matters, a lot more than it should at this age, obviously. I can't help it, I am a child trapped in this giant body and all I wanna do is celebrate the days in my life where I get to dress like an idiot and/or have a bunch of unexplained sugary items and wear tiny hats.

So naturally I did all three of those things this Halloween and it was GREAT! Probably one of the best ever except for the fact that it was on a Sunday which sucks because no one will go out to a bar on a Sunday night, it turns out. And no bands play. And...Sam's closes early, which I also forgot about. So Sundays suck, but I didn't let it ruin my fun.

On Thursday we did our Customer SER-CUS at work and that was a shitload of fun but also a lot of work and it's not easy running around all day in 30 layers of tulle trying to entertain adults in a banking call center. We got first place though, WOO HOO! I dunno what we won, I guess we'll find out this week. Hopefully not food! Here's some pictures of the circus!

I made this sign. And the arrow. I did a lot of crafts this month. (Heaven.)

I made this sign too! That's the nerd my friend at work is secretly in love with but she won't tell him. SCANDALOUS!

Hey, I made THIS sign too! People thought it was pretty funny. That's because it was.

Here's our circus crew! (L to R) My boss The Ringleader, Chris the Strongman, Mo the Bearded Lady, Me as Sprinkles the Clown, The Mormom as our Stuntman, Dee as our Fortune Teller and the new dude as some weird Carnie/Tattoo Man Hybrid. I told that dude to wear a mullet and an old rock t-shirt ala Joe Dirt and look like a Carnie and this is what he showed up in.
THIN ICE, new dude! Plus, he looks like Rick Astley.

Me and muh girlz. Kinda looks like my boss is trying to tickle my tits with that whip, but I assure you, she is not. Unfortunately.

I wore the same costume on Halloween night because you don't spend like 30 bucks on tulle and only wear it once...it's like, the law or some shit. Plus, the thought of having to find another fat costume was like...fuck that noise. It worked out pretty good because most kids do actually like clowns if you don't paint your face up like some scary asshole or cruise around in a windowless van. Also, I can kinda make balloon animals! Well, lemme clarify...I can make like, a sword, and a dog...and a flower. But a flower takes 2 balloons and fucking forever, so that wasn't even an option.

So ya know, we live in Las Vegas, which is mostly in a major recession and most people are really poor and used to not getting what they want and shit so if you say "well, do you want a sword or a dog?" they don't say "I want a UNICORN!" and expect to get it, ya know? But this one damn kid was like deadset on getting a dumbass rat. A RAT. Of all things. I was like "well, I don't really know how to make rats...how bout a gray dog?" (because they are obviously the same thing.) and she's all "no thank you, I would like a rat, thank you." It was a weird mix of perfect manners and like total fascist asshole behavior and her mom was just like staring off into space like she was thanking Jesus just to have two minutes away from her mild-mannered Stalin child.

So fine, I'll try the rat. Who know? Maybe somewhere deep within the gray matter of my brain is some stellar rat-making visionary just waiting to be awoken?? Ah, but no. It ended up being just like a really short dog with a real long tail. I tried to play it off. TA-DA LOOK AT THAT RAT TAIL, MAN! She only stares at me. A ghostly stare. I can tell...this child isn't pleased. "I'm sorry, but rats do not have long noses." I look over at mom who is literally standing out in the middle of the road at this point still staring straight up into the sky either still praying to her God for this extended balloon-making session or waiting patiently for the spaceship to come pick her crazy ass back up. Kindly do not leave your red-eyed demon spawn here when you go, lady! And here, take this rat-dog with you. She ended up taking a red sword. And the rat, because I wouldn't let her leave without it. Who knows what kinda weird ass Eve's Bayou swamp curse she bestowed upon it? I'm poor enough, okay??

The rest of the night went along swimmingly! Swords and dogs all around! Happy kids and lots of babies to hold and letting older kids picks prizes from my BAG O' TRICKS which was mostly filled with Dollar Store fare such as toilet bowl tablets, mouse traps, whoopee cushions and pregnancy tests. Good times, my friends. I ate a brownie and some meatballs and sadly bid Halloween 2010 adieu. :(

Oh well, only 363 more days to go!

Although my costume did come out looking slightly like a Gay Pride Float, pretty much everyone loved it and it was a lot of fun! And I can't believe I found rainbow tights that actually fit! Also, GAY RIGHTS NOW!!

Lady Gaga pose.

An added plus to all the bright colors was that babies were like OBSESSED with my costume. Ryder fell in love with my squeaky horn which soon become a weird mix of body glitter, baby saliva and gnawed up Ritz crackers. Super hot, I know.

Some random victims of my Bag O' Tricks! A plastic banana, Bean-O and a gummy hand.

I found a clown out trick-or-treating and had to sucker her in for a picture!

I'm here (sometimes), I'm queer (sometimes), get used to it.

2010-10-25T05:45:00.000-07:00

Status: Still not dead.

Suffice it to say you may never TRULY know how big your waist is until one day when you have to make your own rainbow-colored-tutu for the clown costume you decided to go with for Halloween. Holy Jesus, is that thing ever huge. Many hours and many yards of brightly colored tulle later, and all I can say about the technicolor monstrosity that is literally eating up my closet is that at least there's no chance anyone else will show up with the same costume.

Once again I went way overboard on Halloween. We decided to do this whole circus theme for the department at work, and while I'm WAY over-excited for the whole thing, I can't tell if my enthusiasm is GOOD because it gives me lots of shit to do which means my hands are busy with hot glue guns and glittery things and not idly stuffing fun-sized snacks into my mouth or BAD because it leaves me no time to cook, clean, eat right or have real meals. I will call it a toss-up since I'm maintaining my fatness, but at least I'm not gaining, which is pretty good for my all-time favorite holiday and handy excuse to binge eat Heath bars.

I'll post some pictures later of my whole rainbow clown get-up. Imagine a float in the Gay Pride Parade on LSD, basically. Only fatter.

In other news, my therapist has cancer and that is a fucking bummer! I had to skip two weeks of therapy because of my crappy new schedule at work and then I get this letter in the mail telling me she'll be out of the office for at least 3 months due to ongoing radiology treatments. That sucks, man. Aside from my own selfish reasons of being like I NEED YOU THERE TO HELP ME AND FORCE HUG ME EVERY TUESDAY, LADY, there's also the sense of sadness that comes from actually caring because she's such an oddly nice person that I feel genuinely bad that she has to go through this. Whoa, look at me, caring about other people and shit. It's like a whole new Tricia. Only fatter.

I hope she'll get through it and get back in there to deal with my selfishness soon. I sure don't wanna have to look for another therapist, but seeing as how I took the very last Prozac today, I guess I got no choice. I hope the new one's not an asshole because he/she's gonna have freakishly long but really skinny and nice shoes to fill, ya know?

Sorry I'm not around much. I never wanted to become one of those blogger people who comes back like every couple months and leaves some shitty update just to disappear again, but mostly I just don't have things to write about. Most days just seem okay. I feel like some fraud being part of this whole dieting blog community knowing damn well I don't diet or blog very often, but it's still nice to have here for when I feel like I wanna talk. So if you're still here, thanks for hanging in there and maybe one day it'll be better.

Up with hope, down with dope, etc.

Hey buddy, where's the fire?

2010-09-26T17:00:00.000-07:00

I saw this secret on Post Secret today and it pretty much sums up how I've been feeling lately. Some days I don't even feel like trying. I feel like my life's already over. I feel like at this point even if I do lose the weight and get to some sort of "healthy" point, I'll still be plagued by all the irreversible damage that's been done already. I know that things can get BETTER, but the all-or-nothing perfectionist in me doesn't want to do it at all if I know I can't get it back to the perfect body. There's still all the loose skin, all the plaque in the arteries, all the damage to my organs caused by diabetes and 30+ years of abuse so even if I was perfect every day from here on out, my body would always be flawed, at best.

Why can't being alive be enough for me? When I'm laying in bed some nights and I get a weird feeling in my chest and my mind starts to wander about what it will be like to never be able to see my friends again, to never laugh again, to never talk to my brother again? I get sad and anxious. I know I don't want to die. So why can't I make the most of what's left of my life and live it to the fullest and stop killing myself everyday?

Some days I appreciate so much about life. I go outside and feel an autumn wind and I'm so fucking happy that I can enjoy this moment. Other days, I lie to friends who invite me out just so I don't have to get dressed or leave my apartment. Especially lately, so close to 400 pounds again, I feel myself turning back into a hermit. Making up excuses just to be left alone so I don't have to put on uncomfortable clothes and be ridiculed in public just to have a night out. So we order in and don't leave the couch all night and it feels all miserable and shameful but I still do it weekend after weekend.

But I'm still trying to get better. The one consolation is that I haven't given up on myself no matter how many times I wanted to. Still in therapy, still taking pills, still trying to eat less, still trying to make myself do things outside of my house. It's usually a little easier this time of year, because at least it won't be hotter than the surface of the sun outside my door for TOO much longer...hopefully. I do love fall. I love Halloween. I've been Halloween shopping seven times already and it's not even October yet. Borderline obsessive? Uh yeah.

Then comes the dilemma of facing yet another Halloween as a fattie. Let's see...witch or zombie...witch or zombie?? Didn't I have that stupid pep talk to myself LAST October telling me to stick to my diet so I'd have more options this year? Pretty sure I did. Okay fat, you leave me no choice.If pep talks and health scares and thoughts of your impending doom aren't enough to get you outta here, then maybe I can embarrass you out? One night at a bar in a 5X Sexy Cop uniform and I'm pretty sure I'll diet like I've never dieted before! OR...everyone I know will be suddenly blind and it won't matter anymore? Either of those options would work for me.

Eh, just kidding. I'll prolly be a clown so I have an excuse to make balloon animals all night. But the badge was a buck and I couldn't resist. I'll use it to seduce Jeff and then continue being a lifelong virgin. Adios, dudes.

Blame it on the A-a-a-a-a-ambien.

2010-09-14T05:51:00.000-07:00

There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call The Ambien Zone.

So that psychiatrist that I see for like 5 minutes about once every three weeks thought Ambien would be a good idea for my long sleepless nights. I voiced some concerns that I had heard some "weird" things about the drug, but he poo-pooed me mid-sentence and said it was all media hype and that the side effects were very rare, blah blah etc. He likes to cut me off and make me feel like some gripey old man when I start to complain about one of his precious drugs.

Anyway, because I have little to no willpower and I DID want something to help me sleep, I decided to give it a try. And truth be told, those little fuckers work. My head hits the pillow and what normally would have been about a three hour process of shutting down the ol' thinker is now like 4 minutes of mumbling to Jeff followed by the sawing of many logs. And it's kinda nice not to have to lay there thinking about all the crappy stuff that happened that day and how I could have done things differently if I weren't such a screw-up and all that negative business that usually keeps people like me up at night, you know?

But then the weird shit started happening...

Suffice it to say that you do not want to suddenly be awoken from a deep Ambien sleep because you will be FUCKED up. Nothing seems real...or everything seems HYPER-real...I'm really not sure. Alls I know is that it makes me really stupid. The first time it happened was purely Jeff's fault.

He got up in the middle of the night to go pee and left the door to the bedroom open. Of course no late-nite pee would be complete without a monster bong hit before returning to bed. And like any real pothead knows, you have to like cough, man, and like, open up the airways, man and like, let it get all in your lungs and shit like that, you know, man? So it's nearly 3 in the morning and I hear coughing. My eyes open and I smell smoke and see this white haze and this glaring light coming from the other room. Smoke, light, coughing, OH SHIT, FIRE! I jump outta bed, start putting on pants, throw on a tshirt, run my big ass down the hallway and happen to see from the side of my eye Jeff standing in front of the toilet taking a pee and still coughing.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?? WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!!"
"Wha? Why are you up?"

Suddenly I realize, there's no fire. Just pee and bong smoke. What in the hell just happened? One second I'm making a valient effort to remember the cat on my way out the apartment door and the next second I'm standing in the hallways staring at Jeff's balls with a puzzled yet clearly disturbed look on my face. Not cool, man. I just couldn't understand how it was so easy to convince myself the place was on fire while still being in such a sleepy haze. It's like having sound and reason, but only to make the most assenine conclusions of all time. "hmm, it's cold in here, I MUST BE STRANDED ON ANTARCTICA. LOOK AT THAT PENGUIN CAT!" Shit makes no sense. Goddamn Ambien.

The next time it happened, I forreal thought I was dead. I was home alone so I can't even blame Jeff this time. I don't know what made me suddenly wake up, but when I did, I was just surrounded by beaming white light, everywhere. This is it, I thought, heaven. No one was more shocked than me. Surely it must be my reward for never having any filthy dirty raunchy sex...the bright white beacon of light leading me home. So I got out of bed and started to walk around. Heaven was SO BRIGHT and FULL OF HOPE and FILLED WITH WONDER and ...strangely had the same layout as my apartment.

Hey, what the fuck, this IS my apartment. My apartment is heaven?? What a shitty shitty terrible heaven...no one even bothered to clean it. It was somewhere between the kitchen and the living room that the light started to fade and I realized it was just my awful dirty apartment with no cool lighting and nothing different at all except for a fat naked Tricia walking around the living room like some lost confused cherub.

Turns out opening your eyes mid-Ambien makes everything all white and bright and crazy. Things that would have been good to know before my freak-outs and before I booked that full-page obituary talking about how awesome I am/was. Oh well, the world still needs to know.

Truth be told, waking up thinking you're dead a few times a month is worth all the good sleepin' I been getting lately. Maybe the dosage could use some tinkering so I'm not taking like six hour naps every Sunday afternoon, but for now I'm grateful for the zzzz's. Hopefully I don't wake up and walk off a cliff or like sleepily drive into a 7-11 one night, but in the meantime, I guess I'll start putting some clothes on when I go to sleep...just in case.

Don't sink the boat that you built to keep afloat.

2010-09-08T05:08:00.000-07:00

It's not that I don't miss blogging. I do.

I just don't like blogging the hard times, and well, I've been having hard times. I wanna be the funny girl with the snappy wit and the perfectly timed f-bomb. Not the girl who comes back three months later to report that she gained back the thirty pounds she lost and that once again, it's back to square one. Unfortunately, that's me today. Well, pretty close. I'm at 394.8, which puts me pretty firmly back to the beginning.

Four antidepressants and two sleeping pills and thirty pounds later and here I am again. Maybe a little worse for wear, but still here. I guess I'm a little upset that my magic pills didn't make me "normal." I still have the compulsion to overeat all the time and spend the day in my pajamas and only get off the couch when I TOTALLY HAVE to. I'm still me. For better and for worse. The good times are maybe even a little better but the bad times are still pretty fucking terrible, and there's still plenty of them. The older I get, the less magic I believe in. I'm not even sure Magic Johnson ever really had HIV. Publicity stunt!

I got really sad when I found out Garrett died. I don't deal well with death, you know? I spent the last couple months pretty much ignoring all things Blogger and that included most of my blog friends, and for that, I am sorry. Garrett was a really nice guy to me and we talked on the phone pretty often and I got all pissed at myself that I haven't talked to him in a couple months and now I never can again. It pisses me off that his name's still in my cell phone, but I know I can't call.

I went through this for a while when my niece died. She had this shitty modem that would randomly connect and disconnect for no reason. So at 3 in the morning on a Tuesday, I'd be online in my lonely apartment playing online Scrabble against the computer and suddenly my dead niece would sign into MySpace. That never went over well with me. I genuinely miss people when I know they're not there anymore. I don't even know what happened to him. I hope it wasn't anything too terrible. I just know I was really sad and pissed off and now here I am talking about it and feeling weird. That either means therapy's working or not working, so I dunno.

I was talking about it with my therapist today though. I mentioned that I had a hard week because a friend died. I said I didn't know what happened, but I mentioned that we had talked before about our relative obesity. She asked me about how big he was and I said "I don't remember exactly...somewhere just above 500 pounds, I think." She got this wild look in her eyes and said "Isn't it so sad that someone can get to that size?" Uhhh. "It's not all that hard, really, I'm 400 pounds." She said she thought I was around 200 pounds! I could tell she felt bad, I mean, the whole thing was kind of a shitty exchange, but I really wasn't all that offended. I can't expect someone who's probably weighed 95 pounds her entire adult life to understand the concept of 400 pounds. I barely understand it and I live it every day. I think she's a nice lady and she's compassionate about my problems and she just didn't know. I let it go. I didn't wanna talk about him like some number or some lesson to be learned. He was a good friend to a lot of us. It just sucks.

But seriously...200 pounds. Gimme a break, lady!

Anyway...I'll try to update more often. Thank you SO much for all the nice cards and gifts I got in the mail and all the encouraging comments and emails. They made me smile and it's nice to feel like people all over the world care about me even during the weird times that I don't care about myself. Seriously, it means a lot.

Dina, kindly get off my ass now.

I didn't do it.

2010-08-03T08:36:00.000-07:00

I've been talking to my therapist a lot about how I blame myself often for things that aren't my fault. Like it's my fault the world seems to have a problem with my fat body. She says it's ingrained from having a dad who always went out of his way to make me feel like I ruined his life just by existing...and I can agree that probably is where it initially stemmed from.

But as I was leaving her office today, she said "Just for today, try pretending that NOTHING is your fault. Just try it."

Is it weird that it kinda makes me wanna rob a convenience store? Wouldn't be my fault, is all I'm saying.

The College Years.

2010-08-02T05:42:00.000-07:00

So I spent most of Thursday night in the Emergency Room of St Rose Siena Hospital last week. It sucked. I went to bed and woke up with my heart beating about a million times a minute. I felt so fucking weird and out of sorts, tingly all over and like dizzy and just fucking weird. I thought FOR SURE, this was it. The most-anticipated, most-feared fatal heart attack that would lead to the oversize coffin and my dad standing over it saying things like "I told her all that pizza would kill her one day" and "You know, that coffin cost twice as much!" Not that he paid for it or anything.

Turns out it was just a panic attack. Like, outta nowhere. I don't get it. Why would I have my worst panic attack ever one week AFTER I start taking anti-anxiety medicine? Why would it come to me in my sleep? I don't remember feeling especially panicky or anything so I dunno what the fuck was up, but either way, I guess I'm glad I'm not dead and my dad gets to save those rants for another day.

Also, the doctor told me I was "very dehydrated." What in the fuck?? I feel like all I do all day is drink water and drink water and then drink more water. They gave me an IV which took FOUR attempts from two different nurses to get the dang needle in the right place. That one bitch was just not good at it. She kept saying "it's RIGHT THERE, I can SEE it!" then still not getting it. And she was leaving her failure needles in my arm while sticking in the next one, so at one time I had three fucking needles sticking outta my arm at the same time and I had to just look away and start humming the theme from Saved by the Bell because if I saw that stupid confused look on her face one more time, I would have punched it and there were way too many cops around.

You know, it says a lot about a person when she's sitting in a hospital room thinking she's on death's doorstep and her heart's on it's last string and yet, still, she wishes she had some Oreo's to pass the time. I dunno if there's any hope for me. Therapy...not working. Drugs...not working. Imaginary heart attacks...not working. I'm not sure what's left.

Oh well, back to the drawing board.

Medicated.

2010-07-22T09:02:00.001-07:00

Psychiatrists are weird. I've been going to my primary care doctor for over four years now and I could never get her to put me on Xanax for my weird anxiety attacks. I spend 14 minutes on a couch with some phychiatrist that has never laid eyes on me before that moment and I walk away with a prescription for Prozac every morning and Xanax twice a day. Whatever, I won't pretend to understand the medical field and all its weird rules...it just seems odd to me, that's all.

He said the Prozac might help as an appetite suppressant, which would be great, but I'm definitely not putting all my eggs in that basket. I still need to get my ass back on track. I need to care JUST enough to make me wanna change things for the better. In the past month and a half, I totally gave up on myself. My will to live was totally broken, and I just want it back. I don't think it's so much to ask. Hopefully these weird shiny blue pills will help. If they don't, I'll have to find another way. I just need something to work. Giving up sucks.

Also, in the past few weeks, I've met three new doctors and they've all told me the same thing. "Have you ever thought about gastric bypass? I really think it could help you." Then they sit there with some smug "EUREKA!" sense of satisfaction on their face like they just cured this fattie. Hmm, gastric bypass, EH? Never heard of it, doc. Of course I've THOUGHT about it. You think there's a person waddling around at my size who hasn't thought about it like every day of their life?? I THINK about it all the time. My insurance WON'T cover it. It's not even an option. I've already cried that river.

And when I say it's NOT an option, I mean some dude in a suit decided that I don't get that option...so I don't. But then they always pipe up about how it could really "change my life." And they start telling me how I should consider "just paying for it." Yeah, okay. Look, dude, we'll both be lucky if that check I wrote you for 40$ even clears the bank, so let's have a quick reality check before you assume I can just plunk down $30,000 for something. My credit sucks and I wrote on your extremely extensive list of questions that a lot of my anxiety stems from financial problems, so let's just take those champagne wishes and cavier dreams down a peg or two.

I understand they're only trying to help, and I know my anger stems from bitterness over red tape bullshit that I can't even cut with a shiny new Ginsu knife (THAT CAN CUT THROUGH ALUMINUM CANS!!) It's just hard for me to open myself up for therapy and I'm trying REALLY hard and it's like "oh, your self esteem problems probably stem from your weight...that'll be $265." I know a lot of it is just snap judgements and that over time, it might, and probably will, get better. So for now I'm giving it the benefit of the doubt...and it's a really huge boulder of doubt, but still. I'll try to keep you guys posted.

And who knows? Maybe one day I'll blog about something that isn't therapy-related. Keep hope alive.

Wednesday, I feel better just for spite.

2010-07-21T08:51:00.000-07:00

So tonight's the night, guys. Time to go see the psychiatrist and see if he thinks I'm as crazy as my therapist does. The more I think about my life, the more I realize that maybe I DO have some weird chemical imbalance that makes me think all the bad shit in the world should happen to me and only me. When I hear about happy or successful people dying, that voice in my head always pipes up "it should have been me, I'm not doing shit with my life." Do other people think this way?

It's not like I think he's gonna give me some pill and I'm gonna wake up tomorrow all happy and sunshiney and ready to take on the world. A pill that can make me eat right, exercise, organize my house, wanna have sex, not hate myself AND learn to save money? Doubtful. BUT...if it can make me stop feeling like all the terrible things that happen in the world are somehow my fault, that would help a lot.

I really appreciate all the comments and encouragement you guys have been giving me. I know I've been lackluster at best at staying connected during this unexpected turn towards shittiness in my life, so really, it means a lot to me to see you guys weathering this shitstorm with me. I rarely expect people to care about my life (shocker?), but it's nice to know that people do.

To change the subject a little, in some vain attempt to actually move my ass off the couch, I decided to go swimming Sunday afternoon at Jeff's sister's house. Well, "swimming", because I still don't know how to swim, but kicking my legs around in the water and wrestling 5 kids off my back for a couple hours is still pretty good exercise for someone like me. For the last 3 days, my legs have been freaking SORE AS HELL. How sad! How out of shape do you have to be to get leg cramps from essentially floating? Sigh.

I thought maybe I could start going over there a few times a week if they'd let me because the swimming pool at my apartment complex is super crowded every day since school's out and it seems like everyone living here has at least 3 kids running around pissing me off. I always check the pool when I get home from work in the hopes that maybe it'll be empty enough for me to dare showing my hyper-white legs and homemade swimsuit, but nope...Kid Soup every fucking day. Oh well...at least one day those little jerks will have to go back to school. So suck on that.

Summer sucks, man. I was all hyped up to have this be the summer that I was gonna beat the heat and lose weight and brave the 120 degree weather to go hike and shit and say "fuck you, sun!" But so far that shit has NOT been the case. You win this round, global warming.

New post

2010-07-20T18:28:00.001-07:00

Original title, eh? Well I was blogging on my blog (HINT HINT) and I thought I'd swing by here. I emailed the people that replied to my last post with Tricia's address. So this is a reminder (NAG) to send her presents (don't you just hate it when people say "prezzies" and shit like that? Ugh, makes me want to stab. "My bestie gave me a prezzie and we're lezzies" I digress)

I heart Tricia.

Hari kari.

2010-07-14T05:14:00.000-07:00

Had therapy again yesterday. She gave me this workbook to do to assess my depression, and apparently, it's severe. Although I can't imagine taking those stupid tests and ending up with anything less than severe. Maybe I'm just crazy to think that everyone's at least a little depressed. The world is pretty sucky, especially lately, and if you're walking around with some perma-smile just loving life, then maybe YOU'RE the weird one.

Or maybe I'm just a downer...who's to say?

Anyway, I finally realized that if there's some drug out there that can make me not be sad, I want to take it. I dunno why I fought it for so long. So I was all geared up to start some new happy-pill-regimin today, but she didn't even prescribe me anything! She said I need to see a psychiatrist first? Stupid me, I thought that's what SHE was.

So now I gotta wait until next Wednesday to go see some dude to see if I should take pills, even though she already told me I should. Makes no sense to me, but then again, I'm clearly crazy, people.

I already feel a little better, though I don't think it's because of therapy. As soon as I see that lady's face, I start crying. Turns out I have a lot of daddy issues...no surprise there. But at least my days seem a little brighter lately. Still eating like a cow though. That part sucks. My jeans are so damn tight...the doctor asks if I ever think about suicide and I wonder if she means about how I stop breathing when I zip up my jeans? If that counts, then yes, all the time.

I have a secret

2010-07-13T17:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, this isn't Tricia. I am like Tricialite. I'm 80% less funny, and 70% more likely to laugh at people. Who am I? My boss likes to call me "Dinalicious" but seeing as that makes me homicidal, I don't recommend it.

I do have a point to posting. I know Tricia sorta well, but I do know something she thinly veils. She friggin LOVES presents. Like if you send her a card with some stickers. Or a mix CD with "Tricia + Stinkynutz 2gether 4 ever" and put Boyz 2 Men and Slipknot on it. So, if you want to buy her way out of her funk, comment here with a way for me to get your email, and if I deem you uncreepy enough (or creepy but too lazy to drive to where she lives and slash her up) I will send you her address and you can cheer her up.

P.S. I think she is just on this therapy kick because she is trying to copy Ruby.

Hi.

2010-07-09T05:14:00.000-07:00

Not dead.

Just in a weird place. I started therapy on Tuesday and I was 25 minutes late due to some asshole customer I couldn't get off the phone before my lunch break. Therefore I only got like a 20 minute session, but I still cried. Talking about me makes me cry. It's weird to hate yourself so much. Not to mention the fact that I'm sitting there crying my eyes out and I start to feel worse because I feel like this therapist is probably thinking 'what the fuck am I getting myself into' after she asked me like 3 questions and I started bawling. Ugh.

Which is the reason I need therapy to begin with...because I'm paying like 200 bucks an hour and I feel bad that she has to listen to my story. I just wanna know why I hate myself so much. It's so hard to wanna take the steps to save my life when I can't even pretend that my life is worth saving. I dunno how it got so dark so fast...it feels like a month ago, I was happy.

Either way, I'm not dead.

I don't like to blog the depressing shit, you guys know that.

I'm pretty sure she wants me on drugs. I don't really know if that's what I want. I don't even like to have more than two drinks a night and now I'm supposed to be okay with being on some constant mind-altering drug? Just not sure if I'm ready to resort to that yet.

We'll see.

In the Year 2000...

2010-06-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

It's weird when you think about what life will be like when the kids in our lives are our age. I'm in my early 30s and I'm already struggling with technology. Yet, Jeff's 10 year old niece is on top of shit. Using your text signature to announce to all other bitches that Justin Bieber is YOURS, goddammit. Whoa, technology. Alls I know for sure...is that I'm backing the fuck off.

Meanwhile the clock in my car is never the right time...can't figure that shit out.

As far as life goes, I guess I'm going back to counting calories to see how that goes. Gotta do something, because all this doing nothing is killing me. Also, my new jeans are far too tight, but I refuse to go back to the old ones.

Breathing is overrated anyway. Better to be in tight jeans with a good plan than sweatpants with a bowl of ice cream. I think it says that in the Bible somewhere...

If not, it probably should.

Sugarless Daddy.

2010-06-23T05:49:00.000-07:00

This is my buddy, Jacob! Jacob is my friend Angel's youngest son and he's 10 years old. His hobbies include making paper airplanes and guns and collecting foil for his giant foil ball. At 18 months, Jacob was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes and Cystic Fibrosis. Needless to say, life's not easy for him. He's just a kid, but he has a lot of shit to deal with every day.

On one hand, it sucks because he's a rough and tumble little dude, but he can't even have a juice box without a finger prick and a blood sample. I'm an adult and I can barely force myself to do that shit like once a day.

Being a diabetic myself, and having so many ties to kids and adults with diabetes, I was really happy to see YumYucky and The Anti-Jared making an effort to get us all involved in helping kids with Diabetes. It's a GREAT cause and I think you should get involved too! Donating ANY amount would REALLY help (even a dollar!) and hopefully there will be a cure for this pain-in-the-ass disease sometime soon. It's just not fair being a sick kid :(

Click here to donate!

In other news, I'm using this Sugar-Free day as a catalyst to jump-start my weight loss efforts again. Been dealing with lots of self-hate and emo bullshit and I'm ready to start digging my way out. I have lots of shit to work on, but the least I can do is give up sugary nonsense for this ONE day. SOLIDARITY!

Sorry I haven't been blogging much. I don't like to blog about my sad days, even though it does usually garner me a TON of comments! Some days I just don't feel like sharing. I promise I'm working on it and hopefully I'll be back to posting some funtimes soon. Miss you guys!

Make it a great UNSWEET Wednesday, friends!

Talkin' bout my poos again.

2010-06-16T05:57:00.000-07:00

So...I like to read on the toilet. I'm pretty sure my colon doesn't even know how to start without a magazine or book or AT THE VERY LEAST, an emergency shampoo bottle in my hand. It's kinda weird though because I don't like to hang out in the bathroom. So it's not usually a very long read. I've bookmarked a page, then bookmarked that SAME page three sentences later and thought that was totally normal. To be continued, dudes.

The thing I'm turlet-reading right now is the Dr Atkins Diet Revolution book. Boy, talk about your boring reads! But it's creating problems.

As you may or may not know, my diet is literally, and figuratively, in the toilet. I'm going through my summer slump. It's all hot and gross outside and the last thing I wanna do when I get home from work is cook some meat-product and then eat it. Atkins is more winter-y, for sure.

Plus, some nights it's just TOO awful to cook. If I wanna have a big-ass fruit salad instead of a pound of steak, my brain says to me "that's okay!" But Dr Atkins is all "NO FRUIT, YOU DUMMY!" ARGH! And to be honest, the thought of going all summer without a giant bowl of watermelon or some grilled corn on the cob or even a Crystal Lite Slurpee makes me wanna dieeeeeee. So I think about it and I'm like "okay, well I'll go back to counting calories, because it still works and at least I can have frozen yogurt or a peach, you know?"

But then I have to poo. Which means I have to read more of Dr Atkins telling me he's going to CURE MY DIABEETUS just by making me eat pork chops. Seems so easy! I wanna cure diabetes too, Doc! Then I think "He's right, I gotta do this!" OH CONUNDRUMS.

So in the meantime, I do nothing. I do...everything. I do like a large Coca Cola/Wild Cherry Slurpee and a Choco Taco for lunch. Then we get pizza for dinner. Then I'm all "man, this scale must be broke..." Because denial is the new black. And it's too hot to wear black in the summertime, so I need to get over this shit, PRONTO.

Also, I dunno what in the hell is going on with Janell but she's got me all worried, and I sure hope she's okay! BE OKAY. Maybe if you're one of those faith-based types, you can say something nice about her in your closing ceremonies tonight. Also, be okay. Thanks.

If you don't know who it is, then it's probably you.

2010-06-15T05:58:00.000-07:00

***Warning: I was mad when I wrote this.

You know, despite my often rough exterior, I'm actually pretty sensitive when it comes to my flab. Contrary to popular belief, I don't enjoy being reminded that it's there! I know it's there...I have to deal with it every minute of every day, so you're not doing me some huge favor by reminding me that everyone else can see it too.

Ugh.

Maybe I should explain. There's this Dane Cook joke, I think...it's like, in every group of friends, there's that one asshole that everyone hates. Well our asshole is Jack's sister. She ALWAYS just shows up wherever he is and proceeds to bitch about EVERYTHING. It's really fucking annoying, but they're like a package deal, so everyone accepts it and deals with it.

But now she's like pregnant. It's this whole like dramatic situation, but needless to say her being pregnant has done real wonders in raising her already cunt-like attitude levels. SO...we're all chilling in Erica's backyard and it's like HOTTT...Las Vegas in the summertime, whodathunkit?? She gripes for like an hour about how hot it is which is already getting on my nerves. Then THIS happens:

Her: "Ugh, being pregnant in the summer fucking sucks."
Me: "yup...it's hot."
Her: "It's already so hot, then I have to wear this fat suit all day!"
Me: "Yeah...sucks, dude."
Her: "I had already gained a few pounds before I got pregnant but nothing LIKE THIS, GOD!"
Me: "Yep..."
Her: "I dunno how you do it. Being THIS SIZE all the time!"
Me: *blink*
Her: "Like, don't you think it's too hot to stay so fat???"

Angel, seeing me there with my mouth gaping open like some fucking bass, swooped in and asked me to help her get a cooler out of her car. I...like...I didn't even know WHAT to say! Am I fat? YES. Do I need you to fucking broadcast it to a backyard full of people?? NO! UGH, fucking bitch! Needless to say, it was a real fucking downer. I dealt with it in the totally adult way of avoiding her the rest of the day and eating a lot. Grr.

I mean, today, after I've had time to think about it...MAYBE she didn't mean it in some malicious way, but still, it's just fucking rude. It's not like when I'm on my period, I go up to her and say "SERIOUSLY, I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU DEAL WITH BEING A CUNT EVERYDAY BECAUSE IT IS FUCKING EXHAUSTING TO ME, DUDE!" Maybe I should.

I take the moral high ground because I'm either a weak bitch or because I think it's not worth alienating myself from the group. But man, I swear, sometimes I really just wanna punch her in her fat fucking pregnant mouth.

Am I being irrational?? Did I just take it the wrong way because I think she's an evil troll and I automatically assume everything she says is to be heard with an asshole-like undertone? I dunno. But now in the retelling, I'm pissed again.

I'm a nice person! I accept everyone for who they are, even annoying assholes. But fuck, stick a goddamn cork in it, you breeding whore. GRRRRRRRRR.

I never feel whiter than when I'm trying to rap.

2010-06-14T05:49:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a week since I posted. I don't have a good excuse. I've been doing pretty crappy diet-wise. I'll let the shock of that soak in since I'm sure none of you were expecting to read that.

I'm really frustrated. Going though this whole why-do-I-hate-myself-so-much stage of my life right now. I don't think a single day passed in the last week where I didn't cry and have a pitiful breakdown. It was just a bad week. I dunno why I do this. I do well and I kick ass, then I let it slip and it makes me hate myself. I waste a lot of time hating myself and thinking I'm such a weak lazy bitch and then I hate myself even more for wasting time.

It sucks. I mean, most days I don't think I'm THAT awful. But then some days I'm just consumed by this rageful self-hate and I don't know how to shut it down. So it lingers and I just about give up on everything. Then one day I wake up and I'm over it for a little while. Needless to say, I have some fucked up shit inside my head and I don't know what to do with it. It doesn't seem to be going away on its own so it's time to start looking for a new therapist to hate.

In an attempt to get outta my head for a while, I went out with the gang to a karaoke bar for Jack's birthday. It was way more fun than anyone was expecting, I think. I didn't even drink but I just felt loose as fuck. Don't think about anything and just scream into a mic and things can be better. We were there for six hours!

It was a cool little place. If you've ever seen Lost in Translation (aside: If you haven't, wtf??), then it was one of those little private rooms like they use in that movie. Just you and your pals and a few buckets of beers (not for me) and six hours of kick-ass tunes. It was funny when we walked in because it was in Chinatown and the whole lobby was packed with all these fashionable Korean kids and they were blasting like hardcore gangsta rap and there were all these murals of rappers on the wall and shit. I was cracking up immediately! Seriously...best.time.ever.

Here's some pics because I don't wanna talk about diet shit anymore right now and I'm looking forward, dudes.

^ It took about six beers to actually get Jeff off the couch to start singing, but once he was up there, you practically had to wrestle the mic away from him. He kept picking all these 80s hair ballads because I think he thought it would make me happy, so that was pretty cute :)

^ The whole gang in front of the fucking rad Biggie and 2Pac wall, haha! I seriously want all my bedroom walls to look like this forever. Starting now.

^Kickin' it with Pac who had some really nice round titties in this painting.

^ Had to give seperate-but-equal love to Biggie so as to not reignite that whole West Coast/East Coast rivalry, you know? I was trying to explain to Angel that it was funny that they spelled it Big-E because that was like, so wrong. She just walked away. Also, you may notice that the wall to your right features Dina's favorite rapper S and oop.

^ I can't NOT do this shit. I know it's rude, but they left the chalk there, so it's really not my fault.

^ I just have to say that the room was like 400 degrees. You would leave the room to go pee or something and it's like cold as ice in the hallway, but then you'd open the door to get back in our room and the scent of just hot sweaty monkey sex would hit you right in the face. It was like walking into a sauna...full of ass cracks. I dunno what was up with that. Prolly some tactic to get you to buy more beer or something?

^ The place was awesome because the cool Asian waiter kept bringing in all this free shit for us. Cheesesticks, fries, shrimp and then these fancy birthday shots! I dunno what kinda shot it was but it was mighty tasty AND the only thing I ate or drank all night aside from like 12 bottles of free water. As a general rule, if an attractive Asian gentleman ever hands you a shot glass full of creamy liquid, just drink it. I saw that in a movie once...

^ The girls singing REO Speedwagon to Danny because he hates them with a fiery passion and we are really all assholes. Plus...they rule. I don't care what you say.

^ In keeping with the WAITER PICS! theme. This dude's name was "Kevin." He was cool and told me to "get all your American friends home safe so you can come back again!" Aye-aye, sir.

Good times, dudes. If I could spend all my time out and about and doing fun shit, I so wouldn't have a weight problem. I think I sweated off about 3 pounds in that karaoke room, but then we g0t 4am Jack in the Box on the way home, which is ALWAYS a great idea, obviously. Let's eat a bunch of curly fries and fall asleep.

Ugh.

I'll be okay. I'll get it together. Everything will be good again, you'll see.

"Excuse me, is there a costume shop in this town?" "no."

2010-06-07T06:01:00.000-07:00

So Utah was pretty boring. Not that I went there to have a grand ol' time or anything seeing as how the primary reason for the trip was a FUNERAL and all. (Can't spell funeral without fun!...bad joke!)

Um, here's something: So I probably told about 400 people that I was going to St George for a funeral and most of the reactions ranged from "Utah? That place sucks!" to "Utah? It's real pretty up there." HOWEVER, of those 400 people, you would think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, ONE of them would have bothered to tell me that like, Utah is in a different fucking time zone! But no...nuh uh. No mention of that shit.

So we pull into town around 9:08 and decide we have plenty of time to burn before the 10:00 service. We stop at a truck stop and go in to like get legit. Put on mascara and lipstick, make sure your nipples aren't cross-eyed, the whole drill, you know? We're killing time trying on trucker hats and like watching people buy hot dogs because those are fun things to do in Utah.

We get back to the car and I decide on a whim to check out Twitter since I AM BORED. Hold up a sec, why does my cell phone say 10:24?? The lightbulb goes off. OH MAN FUCK IS UTAH A DIFFERENT TIME ZONE FUCK FUCK FUCK LETS GO! So we went. LATE. So late. Like, a good half hour late. And I feel bad because I'm standing around laughing about a dude who put mayo on his hot dog (GROSS!) while my boss is up there like delivering her mom's eulogy. Classic Tricia.

We explained what happened and it was kinda good because when you're in a lot of pain and grief, it's good to have your friends around to do DUMB shit to make you laugh. I think she was happy to see us, despite our bonehead moves. I know when my mom died, I was so glad when my friends from work showed up. Sometimes you just need a laugh amongst all the tears.

Plus, Utah had an Avenue Outlet store! I bought a swimsuit that didn't really fit but I thought it looked "okay enough" considering it was like, half off. The price. And off me, seeing as how when I sat down, the shirt part kept rolling up my belly like the opposite of an old lady's knee-high stocking. Ugh, sausage casing. Prolly end up returning it. That'll make three swimsuits I bought and returned in the past month! Why do dressing rooms put me in a daze that makes me think buying something too small is a good idea?? Ugh...clothes.

Anyway yeah, Utah...well, it's no California, that's for sure. I barely even took any pictures! And you guys know I will take pictures of anything! There was a Cracker Barrel though, so I can't bitch TOO much.

Here's like the THREE pictures I took while I was there:

^ Here's some weird plane we found when we got lost trying to find the Farmer's Market at 11:45. It closed at noon. Alas, no fruit for me! The road just like...ended. And there were some planes. I dunno what the hell was up with that. As you can see, I didn't even bother getting out of the car for this picture. It was hot and humid and I just wanted peaches!

^ I took this picture because this was a big-ass church. You don't see a lot of those here in Sin City. We have churches, but they're not all pristine and white and HUGE. There was this church that was being built here like a year ago and they had this big billboard on the land that said "COMING SOON: YADA YADA CHURCH! MAKING GOD A CELEBRITY!" and I thought that was a weird approach for a church. God is not a Jonas Brother, contrary to what Tammy may believe. It reminded me of Hamlet 2. You should watch that, it's pretty funny. Anyway, I don't wanna get into a whole "I DONT KNOW WHAT I BELIEVE LEAVE ME ALONE, DAD!" monologue here, but I'll just say this was a pretty building, so I took a picture of it. Also, let gay people get married. The end.

^ The last picture I took was of this sign I saw for a restaurant you'll be happy to know I did NOT go to. I think it's weird it's a buffet called with the name CHUCK in it. As in UPchuck? Cause that's how I usually feel when I leave a buffet. All upchuck-y. The A-Rama only made me think even more that it was a pukefest. But most importantly, it really made me miss CHUCK! OH CHUCK, where are you?? Come home! Mommy misses you! I always secretly hope when I check my mail (which I haven't done in almost 2 weeks!), that there'll be an anonymously sent package in there with my beloved rubber chicken and a note saying "sorry, dude." But it's never there! Makes me sad, you guys. :(

So that's it. OH, I watched Get Him to the Greek, and it's the best movie ever made and I think you should all go see it. So do that.

I hope this Monday is quick and painless.

I've had my share of sand kicked in my face (AKA WINNERS ARE HERE!)

2010-06-04T05:35:00.000-07:00

You guys ready for some WINNERSSSSS??? Hell yeah? Oh, okay...calm down. This is a respectable joint I'm trying to run here, if you don't mind.

All in all, I had 129 entries! The most of any of my giveaways so far, so hooray!

Alright, so...we'll start off today's festivities with the coveted I CAN TIE MY SHOES award! That one's going out to my main man Tony "The Anti-Jared" Posnalongname. Did you guys know he lost over 200 pounds and now he can tie his shoes and wipe himself?? We should all be so lucky to be where you are one day, Tony (especially me!). And I ain't talking about Florida, cause humidity sucks, right? RIGHT! Sorry you didn't win a real prize, but you can have this ribbon if you want it cause I bought it for you and it cost me a whole dollar. That's nothing to shake a stick at in today's rough economic climate, Tony! You ungrateful... Congrats, Jared! I wanted to send this along with a $5 Subway card, but you people know I have strict monetary limits for gag gifts. Wonk wonk.

The next prize is the GREAT EFFORT AWARD given to the Blogger who went ABOVE AND BEYOND the call of duty in order to win like some water balloons and shit. This one goes out to my gal Tammy! She is the only one who made me a video talking about how great I am! It really did make me feel great too, so KUDOS, Tammy Gibbler. Along with your awesome ribbon, you also get those fucking BOSS Jonas Brothers notepads! There's one for each brother, AND one with ALL the brothers in case you're feeling extra sassy one day! Woohoo!

Alright, now we're getting into the meat of the sandwich, folks. Next up, we got HONORABLE MENTION! According to True Random Number Generator, this one goes out to #87, who just happens to beeeeee...Ariel of Ramblings in the Circle of Nine! I dunno what you won yet, lady, but I guess I'll go back to Ross and see if they got anymore of those peelers since you said you liked it. If not, I'm sure it will be something equally awesome because it's the only way I know how to be. Congrats, friend!
In SECOND PLACE, we got #114...and that is...TARA of 263 and Counting! Tara, you win a random summer prize pack that hasn't been assembled yet, AND a $10 Starbucks card! Unless you don't like Starbucks, which would be ODD since it's so damn great, but if you are weird and hate it for some reason, let me know before I go buy the dang thing and then you don't even use it! Really, the gift card can be from anywhere as long as it's within like 5 miles of my house, cause it's summer here and you know I don't have air in my car, so I'm not gonna drive across town or anything, but I DO want you to be happy, so yeah. Get with me on this at a later time, please. Thanks. Congrats!
AND THE GRAND PRIZE WINNER OF A WHOLE BOX OF 300 THINGS IS.....

#31...

AND THAT IS...

Tricia! ME?? I WON?? REALLY??? OH, it's that OTHER Tricia...(sadface.)

Congrats to Tricia at Endurance Isn't Only Phyical for winning ALL THE THINGS! Hooray!

Sheeee is the champion, my friiiiennndssss...
And sheeee'lll keep on fighting (fatphobia) till the enddddddd...
SHE IS THE CHAMPION
SHE IS THE CHAMMMPION
NO TIME FOR LOSERZ (yous guys)
Cause sheeee is the championnnnn...of my bloggggg!
(sing it, you know you want to!)

Congrats to alllll the winners, and please send your addresses and social security numbers to fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com to get your prizes!

As for the rest of you guys, I sorry :(

I love you all. All 352 of you, woooooo!!!

Have an awesome weekend! I gotta go to Utah for a funeral (downer!) I've never been to Utah though, so hopefully it won't be too terrible and I won't come back a Mormon and wife 6 of 7.

Bye bye :)

I made a spreadsheet because I am a professional.

2010-06-03T05:03:00.000-07:00

You guys! Tonight is the drawing for the 300 THINGS!! Did you enter?? Did you tell your friends?? What are you waiting for???

I noticed I'm at like 341 Followers now. Holy shitballs! Should I do a second prize drawing if we reach the coveted 350 before the drawing tonight?? I think we should. I dunno what it'll be yet. Prolly just some random shit, but who doesn't love that? Random shit is like my favorite shit ever! We're pretty close, and I have faith in you guys. You're like the best Street Team ever! If Ron Paul had followers like you, he woulda at least been on the ballot. I wouldn't have voted for him because I still think he's all wackadoo, but that's besides the point.

Okay, so...don't forget to enter. If you already entered, your name is on this rad Excel Spreadsheet I made so everyone is assigned a number and I don't have to do a lot of handicrafts just to pick a winner. Is your name here?? If not, might wanna get on that, that's all I'm gonna say.

I don't really have anything to blog about today cause everything's all weird. I'm back on plan, and work is all sad cause my boss' mom died, then my coworker's mom died within like 2 days of each other. Lots of calls home to moms, I bet. It's sad.

In lighter news, here's some pictures from my road trip because nothing is more fun and exciting than looking at other people's vacation photos!

^Here's a picture of the gals at The World's Largest Thermometer in Baker, CA. Nothing says "California" to me like a giant non-working thermometer outside of a Bob's Big Boy. I tried to get Angel to dry-hump the Big Boy statue, but she clearly wasn't drunk enough...yet.

^Turns out people in California really like the shitty Lakers for some reason, so this picture got me shot in the ass about seven times at a Burlington Coat Factory. It was worth it. Eff Kobe.

^ I was bringing down a reign of terror at Dave and Buster's the like that those suckers have never seen! I traded in my 2400 tickets for a beach towel and a giant Pixy Stix. They were clearly relieved to see me leave before I turned over several pool tables in a fit of 'roid rage.

^I tried out this shiny new hat at Burlington's because it had all kinds of awesome shit on it like crosses, red paint, silver rhinestones, and some Old English lettering that was undetectable to the human eye. I decided not to get it because it was seven whole dollars and that mask already set me back a cool 20.

^Here we are outside of the hotel. It's like 9am and there's about 4 billion beer cans open in this picture alone. Hair of the dog, indeed.

^This is SUPER TRIVIA...like the whole reason these nerds wanted to go to D & B to begin with! I ditched this game about an hour in and found the Skee-Ball lanes. Kicked it with some 'tweens and talked about Justin Beiber. Won a shitload of tickets. Life is good.

^We played some pool to round out the night. You know it's $14 an hour for a pool table and we were averaging like an hour a game because we SUUUUUCK. The key is to be sober when the bill comes because then you can just divide it up not counting yourself and get those other suckers to pay your part. It always works. EVERY TIME. Always.

^My new thing is making out waiters take pictures with us. This was Keith! Keith was cool but he said we were crazy to live in Las Vegas. So I punched him right in the jimmy. Then I thought about it for a second and realized he was right. I apologized but I didn't really mean it.

^Waiter #2 with the birthday boy/captain. This dude's name was Mike and he sure liked to dance to early 90s grooves. Remember Quad City DJs??? They remember them at Joe's Crab Shack in case you were wondering...

Then we came home and I was freaking tired. The end.

Good luck tonite to you cats that entered!

Who you callin' a sissy??

2010-06-01T05:06:00.000-07:00

My 3-day weekend was a fucking blast. I was super busy and I had a ton of fun. Ton, being the operative word. The wagon ran over me and I almost lost sight of which direction I plan to steer my summer towards.

It came back to me when I read THIS post by some joker named Jack Sh*t. I may give him occasional hell for the asterisk, but the fact of the matter is that the dude is one hell of a motivator. So...thanks, Jack. For all your crazy bullshit and the other stuff too.

I now present to you my feeble attempt at imitation-as-flattery. We'll call it "Pulling a Jack."

That whole ending sequence will make a lot more sense to you if you were ever a fan of 80s-era Hulk Hogan. OH YEAH, BROTHER!

***No twinkies were harmed in the making of this post. Okay, well just that one.

Cash Rules Everything Around Me...

2010-05-28T14:29:00.000-07:00

It's kinda ironic that this plastic jar that used to hold a big ol' bunch of Jelly Belly's is now being used to hold the money for whoever can stay AWAY from Jelly Belly's...

My boss counted up all the loot and it ended up being $183.80. That's a good haul. It would have been way less, but people kept gaining weight and you had to pay in a dollar per every pound gained. One week a girl gained 7.6 pounds...so that proved well for the Jelly Belly jar.

Sure the real prize is supposed to be "health" and whatnot. But I will freely admit that nothing motivates me like cold, hard cash, baby.

In case you haven't figured it out, YES, I won! :) Super excited. I ended up losing 8% of my total body weight. I went from 400.0 to 368.2. I'm in the 360s! Skipping dinner last night was totally fucking worth it, because this feels so awesome. People are proud of me. I'm proud of myself. I know I can keep going.

I dunno what's up with that picture, but that's not the point. The point is...I.FREAKING.WON. A weight loss contest, dude!

I plan on having a "good" time in California this weekend. Hopefully I won't spend all my newly acquired cash moneys. But if I do, it's okay. Because it's mine, I earned it :)

I already found a good way to get rid of some of those pesky single dollar bills...

I hope you all have an awesome weekend. And thanks for rooting me on! You made me believe in myself! That hardly ever happens, and it makes me feel all warm and weird. I love you guys. I love the support. I love the high hopes you guys have for me.

Today, I'm happy :)

Oh my God, Becky...

2010-05-28T05:20:00.000-07:00

Wow, guys! I'm way impressed with the amount of entries I got for the 300 Things Giveaway already! You guys rule at viral messaging! I saw my name on Twitter so many times today! I felt like Levi Johnson, minus the abs and plus some smarts. He's kinda dumb, I hear. On Twitter. I get all my news there, and from Gnu News. You know the line.

Anyway, keep entering cause I'm not doing the drawing until next Thursday (6/3/10) because that's close enough to payday that I'll actually be able to afford to send it out...woohoo!

So I'm REALLY excited because I'm leaving after work tomorrow on a short road trip to Ontario, California to go to Dave & Busters! One of my favorite places EVERRRRR! I'll be honest...I am a giant kid. You give me ten bucks in quarters and a skee-ball machine and you won't see me for a while. But I feel weird going to Chuck E Cheese with no kids! Sometimes I think I should just have a kid so people stop looking at me like I'm some pedophile just because I wanna play some damn air hockey!

But D&B is like grown-up Chuck E Cheese! It's so perfect! If only it wasn't so damn far away. It's like 4 hours, I think. I dunno cause I've never driven to California before, so that's another reason to be excited! I'm going with the trivia crew, so surely a druken blast is in store.

I'll be honest, the reason I'm most excited is because we're getting a hotel room and I'm HOPE HOPE HOPING that it has a big-ass bathtub in it! I love our apartment, but these bathtubs are TOO fucking tiny for life! I tried to use it once when my foot was broken, but it was like me and a thimble full of water and it was still overflowing. NO BUENO. So it's been like over a year since I've had a bath, and I want one, dammit! I used to love just laying there chilling for like hours and refilling the tub over and over again with hot water. Mmm, wastefulness. Look, this sounds bad, I DO SHOWER EVERY DAY. I have to, or else my hair looks like the current state of the Gulf of Mexico right now (so terrible...)

I just...want a bath. So...here's hoping it's not some tiny tub like the one I got now. And by tiny, I mean, "built for regular assholes who aren't me-sized." So yeah.

Also, I bought some jeans, but they don't really fit. But they're kinda cool looking so I bought them anyway. So I'm gonna wear them all night tonite in the hopes that they'll stretch a little and I won't freaking die having to be in a car for 4 hours without breathing. Well, like, they FIT...but it's not a good fit. It's like "okay, get the pliers, time to zip these bitches up!" but that's still better than wearing my Mom jeans with the steering-wheel-rub-spot on em.

One thing I do hate about jeans that don't fit is how they turn my stomach into a front-butt. Baby...got...front. I seriously have no ass. It sucks to be this fat and have small T&A! It's like the cruelest joke ever played on mankind and it's happening right here in my bra and panties. Shit is unfair! If I could learn how to walk backwards, I would have more luck because my backrolls can be pretty voluptuous and my front-butt is the stuff most rap songs are written about. No, not Courvoisier...booty, silly!

Oh well, they'll fit one day!

By this time tomorrow, I'll know if I won the contest at work or not. I sure hope I do! I've done all I can at this point. It's all up to the scale gods now. Unless they don't exist...in which case, I am probably SCREWED.

Hope you guys have a fun weekend!

300 THINGS!!!!!!!!111

2010-05-27T05:41:00.000-07:00

Okay, so...finally got it together, dudes!

Here's the thing...it's almost summer, so I thought...SUMMER FUN PACK! In this giveaway, you'll find almost everything you need for a super fun day at the park, hiking, camping, whatever-ing. Like...outside. In the sun. That big round thing in the sky that isn't the moon or that weird baby head from The Teletubbies. (remember them?? OMG PURPLE IS GAY!)

Anywho, here's the rundown of 300 THINGS: The Giveaway!

1 Copy of 300...because I never miss a chance to be cliche. And also because muscles and whatnot if you're into that kinda thing.

1 FUCKING RAD COOLER/BACKPACK! This thing rules! It holds like a dozen cans (bottles?) in the bottom and the top is all insulated too, and it's got like, backpack straps on it so it's way easy to carry. I kinda wanna keep it...

1 Copy of Hungry Girl 1-2-3...the newest book from the queen of diet cheats.

20 dollars on this Target Gift Card! To be used exclusively for awesome summer gear, got it??
1 Reusable Target Bag...save the environment!

1 - CUTE Ceramic Blade Peeler - because it's prime time for fruits and veggies, guys.

175 - Water Bombs...yeah, I realize this might seem like a shitty filler, but check it: You need to spend more time with your kids, and you guys are my first priority. I did this for your own good. Plus, running from water balloons burns like, a shitload of calories.
1 - Inflatable Beach Ball

Alright...
1 - Package of Wet Ones, because outside is dirty.
1 - Toy Story Ice Pack in case you fall down.
16 Piece First Aid Kit because you are sometimes clumsy and shit happens.
7 Piece Sun Relief Kit because you think you're too cool for sunscreen.
1 - Emergency Blanket! In case you get lost in the woods and need to sleep in a tree. I don't want you to catch a cold! Also, astronauts use these so that makes it awesome. Like freeze-dried ice cream!

1 - Burt's Bees Lip Balm so you can mind your own beeswax and also not have crackhead lips.
1 - Rad summer-inspired nail polish because your toes are looking OUTTA SEASON.

4 - Hot Dog Holders (mind outta the gutter, kids.)
4 - Corn on the Cob holders (seriously, act your age.)

1 - Coppertone Sport SPF 50 Sunscreen - THE MOST IMPORTANT THING HERE...Skin cancer, don't play that game.

1 - Awesome insulated cup thingy that an ice thingy in it to keep it cool, baby.
10 - packets Crystal Light Fruit Punch
10 - packets Lipton Energize Tea To Go (for energy!)
7 - Crystal Light Pure Fitness Grape packets (These are new...you'll want to try them!)

5 - Fiber One Bars (I know the box says six, but Jeff's a dick.)
7 - Emerald Nuts 100 Cal Pack - Almonds & Walnuts
7 - Emerald Nuts 100 Cal Pack - Cocoa Roast Almonds

2 - packs of fruity summery gums
1 - tin of Altoids cause your breath be kickin'
12 - CRAZY straws...for the kids...and for you, because they're awesome. Also, I dunno what happened to the real picture, cause I know I took one, but...this is how they look, k?

_________

300 THINGS!

NOW...you wanna win all this shit, right? Of course you do, it's awesome. AND, since I was able to squish it all into a Flat Rate box (Woohoo!), that means EVERYONE can enter! Even you Canadians and British and whatnot.

So in order to enter, first off, you have to be a follower! I know this might be greedy, but if I'm gonna be sending you a big ol' box-o-crap, I want you to at least be someone who reads my damn blog. So if you're not a follower, do that first.

THEN...

1. Leave me a comment. About anything! Well, about something. I mean, don't just be all "comment" and expect that shit to fly! Tell me something cool.
2. Follow me on Twitter! @fightfatphobia (and let me know via comment, por favor)
3. Link to this post and invite your pals. (Then comment AGAIN to tell me you linked so you get counted again!)
4. Post a 30-second video talking about how awesome I am. (5 entries!)

IF you linked to me already to help me get up to 300, please leave a comment on THIS post reminding me, so I can give you an extra entry, as promised. :) AND THANKS, you rule...seriously, you're the best...around...nothin's gonna ever keep you down.

Once again, thanks so much for following my blog and reading my whines and antics on a semi-daily basis. It means SO much to me! Hearts and flowers, guys!

Good luck!

You shoot me in a dream, you better wake up and apologize.

2010-05-25T05:21:00.000-07:00

I am happy to report that despite my whines about missing "Party Tricia", I did lose 5 pounds this week. I'm at 373.2 now. The last weigh-in is Friday since Monday is a holiday. I thought for sure that losing that 5 would put me in a nice cushy place moving into Friday, but apparently that other ho did well too. She only weighs like 150 so she can lose like 4 ounces and still beat me. Hate!

I'm actually ahead, but only by 1/10th of a percent. OH STRESS. I don't like photo finishes! Stressing out about winning is giving me IBS. Alls I know is I'm being super strict all week and hoping for the best. And if in the end, she wins...I'll just congratulate her then spend the rest of my life secretly hating her from afar. And should she awaken to a horse head in her bed one day, well...you guys didn't hear shit, and you don't know shit. GOT IT??

So in true nerd form, I ended up buying too many dang things for the giveaway. Here I am sweating thinking there's no way it could be 300 things, and it's like way over! I'll cut out some of the lamer shit (although a lot of it is pretty lame...) in an effort to make it all fit in one of those flat-rate boxes because I fucking haaaaaaaate having to go into the post office with the fiery passion of a million suns!! The greatest day of my life was the day I learned you could pay and print labels to mail shit online. OH GLORY BE! Eff you, slow ass postal workers and old ladies in line trying to tell me about Jesus and "the coloreds" <---yes, that happened.

I 'll be posting about it in the next couple days. I woulda done it today but I went to take pictures and the camera battery was dead. I charged it for like ten minutes and looked to see what was on there and there was like 500 pictures of the stupid cat. Jeff must have been really high that day. Or every day. It was like...the cat and his hand. Then the cat and the fan. Then the cat and a can of Pringles. If we were still in the dark ages where people had to use film, I would be WAY pissed. But since we're not, I just shake my head and wonder how this is my life.

But, I can't lie...I have my fun with him sometimes too... So anyway, the giveaway, I promise...soon.

Wouldn't it be funny if there was no giveaway at all and I just kept saying there was to make you guys come back and check my blog everyday for your chance at free shit?? HO HO HO what a caper I pulled on you guys!

Just kidding, there is one.

...or is there??

Oh, there is? Oh, okay.

Hey, speaking of free stuff, I WON SOMETHING! That is super rare! It's this rad metal sign to give to this hippie friend that I disapprove of for his birthday. OH and I just found out today that his girlfriend is PREGNANT. Thus securing at least one more generation of people wearing Birkenstocks...blech.

Thanks to my buddy POD (secret name because internet people are scary?) from the very funny blog Thufferin' Thuccotash! If you don't already read her blog, I suggest you high-tail it over there because it is hilarious and awesome. And you know I don't just throw the word hilarious around, unless I'm talking about me, so it must be pretty comical.

Not have your cake and not eat it too.

2010-05-24T05:59:00.000-07:00

I gotta say, I'm getting a little tired of going to parties and only drinking water. Last night I went to Jeff's Mom's birthday party and it was full of awesomeness and I didn't have any of it. On one hand, I feel semi-proud of myself, because it feels nice to have that much control over what is most obviously a serious and lifelong addiction.

But on the other hand, I feel bitter. Bitter that these regular-sized people surrounding me can eat and drink what they choose and then be done with it. They don't have to count calories or carbs or anything else. They just get food, and eat it, then go on with their business. It's frustrating.

It's a weird conundrum being on low-carb. There's a cake, and I want it. Like, I want it a lot. But I don't feel this overpowering urge to have it. I can want things and not cave, but I'm not happy about it.

...and I feel like I should be! I feel like I should be overjoyed that I am taming this fucking monster that lives inside my brain. But instead, I'm just like, pissed at the monster. In theory, I'd love to say "no thanks, I don't want that" but instead it's more like "no thanks, I CAN'T have that." (sadface.)

So I'm trying to decide if I need to have a little slack. Will I be able to reign it back in? If I stay so super strict, will I burn out and quit altogether? What's the right answer here?

I know this is a weight loss blog, but I do so hate talking about dieting. I cringe when people ask me about it in public. The 'D' word. I feel so self-conscious when people know I'm dieting. I always feel like they're thinking either "it's about time, fatty." or "wow, what's the point?" It sucks. It's probably all in my head. Lots of things are. Stupid annoying brain always trying to bring me down.

Anyway, I think I've finally hunted and gathered enough things for my giveaway, so I'll be posting that thing soon. I'm sick of these depressing posts! I blame the cake.

When it comes to huge openings, a lot of people think of me.

2010-05-22T04:21:00.000-07:00

It was a good Friday night. I got to go see a live performance of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I won't lie and say it's something EVERYONE will love, but personally, I thought it was one of the greatest things I've ever seen.

It incorporates three things I really love in a show: drag queens, fucking kick-ass original songs and a lot of blow job jokes. Though if I'm being literal, Hedwig the character isn't a drag queen so much as a transgender who had a very bad surgical experience, thus creating the "angry inch." If you haven't seen the movie, I would say see it. Because it fucking rules.

And if ever you get the chance to see the live rock kick-ass show, do that too. My heart was totally full.

Wish I had gotten some better pictures DURING the show, but it felt super rude to take pics while that dude's up there like...kicking ass. So I just got these lame ones of the program and the stage before the show started.

THEN...I get home and log into Blogger to find that HELLO WE ARE AT 301! Dude, that was SO fast! I am thoroughly impressed and humbled, my friends. That was like 11 people in one day!

I dunno how it happened, but it rules, seriously. I say rules a lot now. But only because I mean it.

Rest assured I will be spending the rest of the weekend trying to put together my Project 300 giveaway! It WILL be 300 things, even if like 295 of them are like something lame. Word is bond!

Love love love...goodnite.

Hey, it's my 200th blog post!

2010-05-21T05:49:00.000-07:00

My blog, by the numbers.

Math nerds Unite!

200 = the number of posts I've had so far, including this here one.
10 = number of followers needed to reach my goal of 300!
78 = number of pounds needed to reach my first weight goal of 300! (eek.)
4 = number of items I've bought so far towards my 300 Things giveaway.
1 = number of successful (?) attempts to bring my blog into the NOW. (i.e. video/audio)
4 = number of unsuccessful attempts to bring my blog into the NOW. (i.e. video/audio)
4 = number of bottles of CheriBundi Cherry Juice in my fridge untouched due to carbs.
14 = average number of carbs I eat a day, so far this week.
268 = average number of times I use the word "like" per blog post.
344 = average number of page loads for my blog per day for May so far. (that's pretty good!)
423 = number of ounces I pooed after Jack Shit made me drink vomit juice.
0 = number of ounces I had lost the next day, according to work scale. (thanks for nothing!)
290 = number of awesome people that make this blog worth having.
1,000,000 = number of thanks for making me a part of your day and sharing your good times and bad times with me.

You guys rule. I'll try to use "like" less for the next 200.

I said try, no promises.

Have an awesome weekend!

I'm going to see a live version of the movie Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I hope I fit in the seats and I hope it's as great as it seems like it will be in my head. I'll tell you guys all about it some day...when you're older :)

Computer geeks have ruined the word Fail.

2010-05-20T18:27:00.000-07:00

So...I tried to make an audio file since the video file went down in history as the most pointless waste of two days of my life ever invented. But I dunno if this works either. It's only a minute long, so I guess...lemme know if it works?

Also, if you know a smarter less-tricia-like way to do this, please let me know. Because I feel super useless when it comes to computer business right now.

Click here to be blow away by my astute nature.

I think you have to download it? Forgive me, I am a dumb.

ZOMG!

2010-05-20T05:22:00.000-07:00

DUDES! Something magical happened today! I got this in my email inbox at work:

WHOA WTF! I dunno how it happened, but we are tied! I'm tied for FIRST! Actually, I know exactly how it happened. She gained a little (thanks to whoever pulled off that little piece of voodoo!) and I lost a little. Like one of those awesome math problems when they're like Train A leaves a station at blah blah and Train B leaves a station at yadda yadda and...you know those kind, right? It's math, guys. WE ARE TIED!

Oh, and it turns out we've got two more weigh-ins left...not one, which I originally thought. Okay, so PLAN OF ACTION: don't fuck up...just don't.

It was awesome because the email went out and like ten people emailed me all like "DUDE YOU HAVE TO KICK HER ASS!" So not only am I TIED, but god, people fucking love underdog stories! And in this situation, the underdog is me! People love me! Feels weird...I sure hope I don't let them down.

Eye of the tiger, bitches!

Very Important Things Worth Mentioning...

2010-05-19T12:44:00.000-07:00

*If you were a fan of DINA's old blog, you should know she's got a new blog. It's all secret-private-whatever, so leave a comment on her old blog if you want her to add you. If you don't know who she is, she's my BFF and she's pretty great when she's not being a whore, so join in the fun!

*As the Biggest Loser Challenge winds down at work (only one week left!), I'm on the search for a new challenge to keep me motivated. Since nothing keeps me motivated as well as CASH MONEY son, I'm joining Katy's Virtual Biggest Loser Challenge. You can click HERE for all the details, but basically you can join in for 10 bucks and it goes for 3 months with weekly weigh-ins. You should join. It's only 10 bucks, you cheap commie bastid. Plus, you could win money! Like, for real money.

*My favorite sale of the summer is THIS Saturday and I can't even partake! One my most favoritest things about summer is FLIP FLOPS IN ALL COLORS OF THE RAINBOW! But now I can't wear the cheap ones cause of my stupid Frankenfoot. And this Saturday at Old Navy, they're only ONE DOLLAR per pair! (that goes for dude sizes too...) You could get one of every color for like ten bucks and your life would be full of lollipops and sunshine all summer long and I'll just have to wear my boring ol' sneakers like some turd. SUCKS! Still, even though I'm sad doesn't mean you jerks shouldn't get to have fun. I'm just jealous. Plus, I hate missing out on sales! Nevermind, I hate you guys with your colorful feet. Get outta my face!

I hate everyone with no metal in their foot right now.

*Jack Shit told me to drink Magnesium Citrate to poo, and I did, and it was the weirdest day of my life so far. And I've had a lot of weird days. Also, I got the grape kind because I am a baby and it tasted like Diet Grape Shasta with a bunch of salt poured into it. I guess I'm saying...don't ever listen to Jack unless you wanna spend the day in the bathroom reliving the plot to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

I don't know where to go from there, so I'll just go. Love.

Being 400 Pounds - Episode 2: Fear.

2010-05-19T05:48:00.000-07:00

At my friend Angel's house, where we had the Girls' Night thing, there's something I'm very afraid of. Wanna see what it is?
Yeah, it's her fucking weird ass sliding glass door. That little segment of open-ness is all the room allowed to shimmy my big ass in or out of her house. I really DON'T fit. It sucks and it's embarrassing. I try to push myself out there while hopefully no one's looking. Finally getting through is a big relief! Then those fuckers wanna take the party back inside. AH FUCK. Again, wait for the prefect opportunity to squeeze the biscuits outta the can. Fuck that door, man. It ruins my night.

I never thought I would see the day where I could realistically say "Yo, I can't fit through your back door." Again, I say to you all, fuck that door.

Here are some things I'm not afraid of:
bats
snakes
airplanes
heights
Bigfoot (seems like an okay dude)
Vampires (the emo ones and the just regular ones...)
bloody gory movies

Here are some things I AM afraid of:
plastic lawn chairs
airplane seats
movie theater seats
turnstiles
booths
roller coasters
seat belts
all other belts
bar stools
high heels
cheap plastic toilet seats
school desks
raw chicken

Being 400 pounds means not fitting. Not fitting in, literally. Not fitting in, metaphorically.

It means having to wait longer at a restaurant for a table to open up so you don't have to try to squeeze all your junk into a booth and have a waiter look at you like he just handed you a cancer diagnosis as opposed to a menu.

It means going to a party and standing around for 6 hours because you're too worried about dealing with the shame of breaking a(nother) plastic lawn chair.

It means going to amusement parks and being the designated purse-holder because there's no way you can fit in any of the roller coasters. Essentially it means you spent 60 bucks to stand out in the hot summer sun and watch other people have a good time while you're dripping sweat into a stuffed Panda Bear the size of Jupiter that some dude won for a girl that isn't you.

It means having to deal with the anxiety of not knowing ahead of time if you'll fit in the seats at any given movie, concert, play, etc. Are you paying $100 to see a band you love or to be embarrassed in front of a group of strangers and ruining what should have been a great night? No way to tell.

It means quitting college and being too afraid to go back because you don't fit in those fucking desks. That one hurts more than I'd like to admit.

It means it sucks. I just wanna fit.

One more week to lose 50 pounds! And a new feature...

2010-05-17T21:09:00.000-07:00

Alright, well I lost 2.4. That's not too bad, but it's sure not gonna put me in first place. I did pretty awesome all week, but I'm sure there are factors that led to the unimpressive loss. First off, I haven't pooped in a week. That may be TMI but this here is MY blog and I won't be censored! Darn it. Also, PMS. I thought it was a couple weeks ago because I was so moody, but it turns out I was just being a bitch for no good reason. THIS TIME IT'S REAL THOUGH!

My boss was all "2.4, that's great!" and she prolly thinks I'm being a real whiny asshole about the whole thing when like, at least I'm still losing. And really, it's not a bad loss. I'm just expecting too much from a body that I have put through absolute torture for the past 30 years. I act right for 3 weeks and I'm pissed that my body is like "hold the fuck up, bitch!" I am being a spoiled baby.

I do need that money though...

I will say that getting into the 370s actually did put a smile on my face when I first saw it. It's been over 18 months. I lost and gained essentially the same 15 pounds over and over again, and I feel like I've crossed a small hill that I was having a hard time getting over. I am proud of myself for sticking to it and being so in control. That is HARD for me to say. I can't expect most people to understand how I truly feel about myself, so for me to give myself a compliment without a sarcastic overtone is a BIG step. So in the midst of my bitching and moaning, there's progress.

I wanna change the subject now and move into a new feature of my blog called Being 400 Pounds. I never want to be 400 pounds again. The time I spent there was full of shame and embarrassment. And even though losing 22 pounds isn't some gigantic accomplishment, I do feel like I'm firmly OUT of the 400s and I wanna stay that way. If these serve as nothing but a reminder to myself to put down the fucking Twix bar one day, then they're worth the embarrassment.

At 400 pounds, I own one pair of jeans that fit. One. I had to buy them from a catalog and I had no clue what my size was. My weird body shape of like all-stomach makes pants nearly impossible to find. I guess clothing companies think that anyone with a stomach as big as mine must have tree-trunks for legs, because any pair I found that actually fit my waist were like crazy clown pants in the legs department.

I finally broke down and went to have a pair altered. It was expensive, but they fit. It wasn't flattering or sexy or comfortable, but they DID fit. At 28 years of age, it was my first pair of jeans. My only pair. Still my only pair, to this day, 4 years later. Needless to say, they're getting a little worn. Especially in one spot:
Yeah, in case you're wondering, that's where my steering wheel rubs against my belly. Too fat for jeans, too fat for my car. It's rubbing less these days, almost not at all. But the damage to these jeans is done.

Do you know what it's like to be too fat for a fucking car?? I put off getting my license for over a decade because I didn't fit comfortably in any car I tried. Eventually I just dealt with the "rub." I can't wait for these days to be over. Seriously.

So...I need new jeans. The process starts again. Kill me...

Triple Word Score!

2010-05-17T05:37:00.000-07:00

Girls' Night turned out to be no big deal. I'm still glad I let them know ahead of time that I was gonna be on my best behavior, although it sure didn't stop anyone from bringing the most sugary bullshit ever invented. It actually wasn't THAT hard to say no...even in the morning when everyone was hungover and eating fresh do-nuts all up in my face. And to be honest, by that time, I was pretty fucking hungry since I had dinner at like 5 the previous day like some elderly person at Kountry Kitchen Buffet. Thank goodness Angel has a diabetic son and that house never out of sunflower seeds. Whew.

One clear advantage to not drinking was that beating everyone at Scrabble was super easy. Behold...the Scrabble Queen!
Although, and I'm not trying to be cocky here, but I'm pretty sure I could have beat them drunk too. I'm just pretty decent at board games. It's like my life's calling.

In honor of the Scrabble Tournament, one lady made letter-shaped chocolates. Seeing as how I am a dork to the Nth degree and I get super excited finding my name on anything, I HAD to do this:
I didn't eat the chocolates when I was done though. I was gonna just throw them out since I'd been handling them but I forgot drunk people will eat anything and they especially love when you throw stuff at them to catch in their mouth. Like seals! Good times ensued.

All in all, I'd say it was a pretty great night. I realize that I can't expect people to change their fun just to satiate my "diet-of-the-month." I was able to have fun without the guilt and it feels pretty awesome. Also, I drank about a gallon of water. Turns out that trick does kinda work.

After about 3 hours of trying to figure out the self-timer, we were finally able to get a group pic:

I told everyone to throw up their "I'm-gonna-cut-this-bitch" face, and this is what we got. I dunno what the hell half of them were doing, but I guess not everyone cuts the same, you know?

Weigh-In today, and I sure hope the scale has some love for me considering how well I did all week. I had a pretty big loss last week, so my hopes aren't super high, but I would LOVE LOVE LOVE a good loss to get me back in first place with only ONE more week to go! We'll see what happens.

Hope you all had a good weekend! <3

Make-believe we never needed anymore than this...

2010-05-15T05:27:00.000-07:00

Here's a silly question...how to heck do you Unfollow people on this thingamajig? I tried to add a bunch of new blogs to my Reader yesterday and it said I was maxed out at 300. Kinda like my Target card, but with less hassling phone calls. One time this dude was like "well, I see you're still able to pay your phone bill, don't you think Target deserves some of that money?" I almost wanted to give him ten bucks just for using such trickery! Instead I just hung up, then blogged about it. Anyway, yeah, how do I unfollow? There's lots of dead blogs on there and I need to make room for some fresh meat. Help me!

So tonite is Girl's Night Redux. You may remember the last Girls' Night, which was filled with alcohol and bad decisions. I need to NOT let that happen tonight. My buddy Clyde suggested maybe skipping this one for the greater good. But, I dunno. That would make me feel like dieting is getting in the way of my life, and I don't want that feeling. However, I do plan on being downright saintly when it comes to the grub tonight. There were four cakes at work yesterday and not even a drop of icing passed through these lips, so tonite I will give the fondue pot the proverbial Fuck You and come back Sunday to say how awesome it felt to be in control. All I gotta do is say no. I can do it.

To make it easier on myself, I forewarned Angel that I wouldn't be participating in the debauchery.
She was okay with it. Oh yeah, that's my FaceBook if any of you guys or gals wanna add me. I'm pretty awesome, so you might as well.

Hey, as long as I'm here, let's answer a question! Still no video upload. I set it to upload this morning before work and when I got home, it was still loading. It's just effed, you know? I'm still working on it. Jeff said he would set up my computer for audio recording while I was at work and I come home and this is what was on my desk:

Haha, look at that fuckin' thing! It makes me wanna fill my apartment with some tiny Asians drinking Remy Red and belt out some Journey ON THE REAL. Open Arms like a mofo. I thought it was gonna be like a dang headset with a mic attachment! Not some cheesy lounge singer clang-clang-clang-went-the-trolly microphone. I'll still use it, I guess. But I gotta wait until he goes to work cause I don't want him to be all "you have a blog, huh what?" NO! God.

Oh yeah, a question! Katie J submitted a 5-parter!

Katie J said...

What is your favorite form of exercise?
What is your favorite color?
What is your favorite musical group?
Have you ever considered surgery to lose weight?
What is your favorite part of your body?

a) Running...away from exercise. teehee. I dunno, I guess like pool-type stuff. Now if only someone would hurry up and fill their pool!
b) RED! Always. Forever.
c) Foo Fighters.
d) YES! I consider it all the time. Like, always. I've been to the seminars. Sadly, my insurance at work does NOT cover it. Well, not only do they not cover it, but there's an actual EXCLUSION so there's like, no way around it. Knowing what I know, the dangers and how my niece died from complications, I would still do it. If I could.
e) Bleh. I hate all my 2000 parts! I know I have a lot of weird self-esteem issues, but self-esteem can only get you so far! I guess if I had to choose, I would say my brain. It may be lazy and not know a lot about history, but it's pretty good at math and multi-tasking!

More later! Have a great weekend, guys!

Might wanna grab a snack for this one...

2010-05-14T06:04:00.000-07:00

Alright guys, we gotta lotta ground to cover today so let's get to work:

First thing's first: DUDES...Project 300 is kicking a lot of effing ass right now! We're halfway there! We're at 275/300 followers. That's 25 new people in like a WEEK! AWE-SOME! What word is better than awesome? Find out what it is and let me know so I can call this that. I am happy.

NEXT: Thanks for all the questions! I'll get to work on them right away! I might even include a few in this very blog post. If you're lucky, that is...

MOVING ON: I fulfilled a life-long dream of mine today when I went to Party City and finally, after over a decade of searching, found confetti shaped like my name! Oh god, so awesome. Check it!
I'll prolly end up cutting off the first PA, because it makes my name sound too formal. And you guys know I'm all about the party. My name is the mullet of names. At work, I'm all "Oh yes, this is Patricia, I'm happy to help you. Please, feel free to yell at me, it's what I get paid for." then 5:00 rolls around and I rip off that PA all "woooooooo, eff you, bank! Tricia rules!" and run out of the building shooting off some mad middle fingers and speed off in my sweet sweet El Camino (the mullet of cars) leaving some hardcore skids in the parking lot on my way out the gate.

Well, I don't have an El Camino, but that shit would be extra sweet if I did. And secretly, I have always dreamed of owning one. With a foot-shaped gas pedal. REDNECK ROOTS. Sigh.

ALRIGHT, LETS KEEP IT GOIN: So this lady Frances at work emailed me today and was all "hey girl, I brought you a souvenir from my cruise! Come get it." and I was all "hot dog!" thinking it was gonna be some cool Carribean Rum or like...I dunno, some Samoan hottie or something. It was this:
Don't get me wrong! I do enjoy having a cool-cat president, and I'm all for Obama. (Sorry Repubz...) But why would you go on a Carribean Cruise and bring someone back a dang Obama keychain?? Then I was like "Oh...what island did you get this from?" and she's all "no, I got it in the Las Vegas airport!" Las Vegas, as in, like, the town that we live in! She's so great, and I love her, but sometimes, she's a little out there.

When she went to Hawaii LAST MONTH (seriously, wtf vacations?), she brought me back this shell necklace and I swear to god, the shells are arranged in such a way that it looks like a string of sets of balls. Like for real balls, nads, nuts, whatever you call them. Crap, now I gotta take a picture of those. I'll do that tomorrow!

Anyway, so like, the keychain is solid as hell. I'm pretty sure I could knock out any would-be attackers if I just threw my keys at them. So I put it on my keyring today and I put my keys in my pocket to go home (eff purses!) and they were like making my pants drag! NSV(?)! I was holding them up like a nerd just trying to get outta the building and make it to my car without any repeats of my pants-on-the-ground episode from the first week I started work all those years ago. I don't think I'm ready for smaller pants yet, but at least progress is being made! w00t!

This is a long ass post, huh??
NEXT UP ON THE AGENDA: My home-slice 411 Gurl made a collage the other day as part of a SparkPeople challenge showing her vision of what she wants her life to be like in the not-so-distant future. Since we're partners in Losin' the Chunk, she asked me to do the same. So I did this in my spare time at work today:
It's not as rockin' as hers, cause sadly I only had like a Weight Watchers magazine from like 2006 and a magazine called ISLANDS that I stare at about twice a week when I truly truly hate my job/life. It helps! Island livin, that shit is for me. You should make your own too! Then we'll make a collage of collages and the internet will fucking implode. Sometimes shit is just too powerful, you know? It's just a damn series of tubes, what do you people want??

LAST THING'S LAST! I tried to do a dang video blog to answer some questions. I like set up my camera in the bathroom and went to town on that list! But...it won't effin load. Maybe it's too long? I guess I'll try it again tomorrow so you guys can be stunned by my ugliness and awesome question-answering skillz and over-use of hand gestures.

I'll just answer a few here in boring ol' regular typing to try to make up for it.

SO...
Wishing on a star said... What are the top 3 things on your bucket list?

I guess I'd have to say...
a) skydiving, because it looks so rad and I haven't shit my pants in quite a while...
b) Going to Ireland...because it looks so rad and I haven't shi....hey, wait a minute. Mostly because I hear it's awesome and I never really go anywhere awesome, plus pots of gold, obv.
c) BLOGGER MEETUP! One day it will happen.

Chai Latté said... Would you rather.... Have a big ol' penis in place of a nose or Have a nose in place of a vajeez Also.. what is your middle name?

If I'm being honest, I don't use my vagina much except for peeing these days, and I assume the nose would have some sort of nostril/pee accessibility? However, the monthly 3-day nosebleed would probably be too much for me. As for my nose, it's pointy and weird...Dina calls it The Bob Hope. So I guess a penis, a big ol' one even, might not be so bad of a replacement. Plus, I've always wanted to know what it was like to have a donger for a day or two, but I never thought about it being a part of my face before. If it does ever happen, I hope it's around Halloween time so I can craft an extremely detailed Gonzo costume. I think I artfully dodged really answering this question.

Also...it's Ann. Real original, Mom!

One more...

Camevil said... Being in Vegas, does it matter that it's a "dry heat" if it's still fucking hot?

Alright, "dry heat" is a fucking myth. If you're fat, it doesn't matter what kinda heat it is, you will sweat...a lot. Plus, people underestimate the sun when you live in a place like this. It's like this fucking overbearing warlord watching over you every minute of the day to make sure you're not caught trying to have some fun. It's such an oppressive force! Seriously, people don't get it. "Dry heat" is a term made up by southerners who wanna win some imaginary "it's hot here" contest.

That being said, I'm from Texas and the summers suck shit there too. So I guess I would just say, any heat is hot and it sucks, especially for a fat.

Alright, chaps. It's been fun. See ya later!

Show #2 who's boss!

2010-05-13T09:52:00.000-07:00

You know, I think I'm pretty open about myself on this blog. Maybe MORE open than I need to be, since I'm sure you've all read some things here and thought "well, I coulda lived my whole life without ever needing to know about THAT shit..." You know about my crappy relationship, my crappy family, my semi-crappy job and I make no qualms about how I feel about myself on here.

But...maybe there's stuff you don't know, and maybe you WANNA know...ya know?

Now is your chance! I've seen lots of people doing this on their blogs recently, plus I think it's a good way to kill a blog post since some days I feel way uninspired (like today?...)

So go ahead, ask me anything you want. Feel free to ask anonymously if you're too much of a puss to say what's really on your mind. Not that I'm judging you...

Leave me a comment and I'll start working on it lickedy-split! It doesn't have to be ALL SERIOUS...you know I like to keep shit light. But I won't mind answering the deep shit if that's what you cats want. I aim to please.

Alright, do it. Bye bye.

Oh yeah, and if no one does it, I'll assume you guys hate me and jump off a bridge. But, no pressure.

P.S. The Morm in the cubicle next to me is drinking a Rock Star Lemonade Energy Drink today and he won't shut up about how great it is. Every time he takes a drink, he lets out this sensual sigh like the can's over there giving him a BEEJ under his desk and maybe he thinks we don't hear it, but I am fucking dying. Dying...for real. I hate holding in a laugh because my face gets all red and my eyes get all watery and I get like a weird chill in my boob-type area (dunno what that's aboooot.) Anyway, it just dawned on me that as I sit here laughing at him getting his energy drink oral sex, I wonder if anyone's laughing at me looking like a newborn trying to fight out a turd. This is my day, so far.

I'd probably end up breaking my hand anyway.

2010-05-11T23:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when it's like 11:31 at night and I'm chewing on the hulls of sunflower seeds to keep from over-eating and Jeff walks up to me and unwraps a Hostess cupcake like 3 inches from my face and shoves the whole thing into his fat greedy mouth, I have visions of just punching him square in the jaw just to see what he'd say.

He'd probably say ouch and ask me what the fuck is wrong with me.

And I would just stand there stunned because I've never punched anyone before...especially in the face!

Today was the first day in two weeks that I've had an actual honest-to-goodness craving. And he ate it right in front of my face.

Not on purpose. He's just inconsiderate like that. I realize I'm dieting and you're not and you pay half the rent, so you can eat a fucking cupcake anywhere you want. But keep it the fuck outta my face. It's just common decency.

I'm overreacting. But I'm in a pretty pissy mood. So...this too, shall pass.

Canada: A Love Story

2010-05-11T08:36:00.001-07:00

I'm not...but probably at least four times a week, I wish I was.

Also:

When it hurts so bad, why's it feel so goooood?

2010-05-11T05:48:00.000-07:00

So I was down 5.8 today, taking me to an ALMOST even 380.2. This pleases the Tricia.

As far as the challenge goes, I'm back in it, baby! I'm now down 5.0% to her 5.7%. I feel like I can totally kick ass for the next two weeks and take it if I just try really hard and don't fuck up...like, ever. I CAN DO THIS!

And before Jack Sh*t chimes in, I'm NOT abandoning the diet after the challenge. I'm simply saying, it would be a real morale boost for me to actually pull out the win. Not to mention the fact that I need those moneys! So...slow and steady, stay the course, blah blah blah, don't eat cake.

This coming up Saturday is another dang Girl's Nite though. It's good and bad. I really do enjoy getting together with this group of hoez and playing dirty Pictionary and watching them get drunk and fall down, but gah, the temptation of it all! Karen and her damn traveling fondue pot! (and it's fresh chocolate every time, so that handy trick you guys gave me last time about thinking the chocolate was contaminated is NULL...as if contamination would ever be enough to keep me away from chocolate anyway...silly readers!)

I was trying to think of maybe some low-carb dish I could take, then pondering a few low-carb cocktails. BUT I KNOW ME! Get a couple shots of random liquor in me and there goes the ol' resolve. Oh sure, I'll START by eating sensibly. My diet-y food, then a rum and diet coke. Four hours later, I'm fisting a bowl of molten chocolate with reckless abandon. (your mental image - check it.)

I don't even like to drink.

All this damn peer pressure!

I thought about emailing a "I'M NOT COMING IF YOU GUYS ARE GONNA FORCE ME TO WRECK MY DIET!" letter to all involved parties, but that just seems...yuck. I don't wanna be THAT person. Plus, ultimately, I'm a grown-ass woman, and if I say no, it means no. Now...I just gotta practice saying it. Then say it when it counts!

I did turn down roasted potatoes AND cake at the Mother's Day thing. So...that's something. It means I actually CAN say no. Well...if I'm being honest, I just left right at cake time. Driving home feeling like some scorned ex-lover. I'd rather leave the party than see my Love having fun with a bunch of young hussies! This shit...it's serious.

Time to go eat some meat. Change the record, eh?

PWNing n00bz.

2010-05-10T05:51:00.000-07:00

I recently posted a comment on Tony's blog about how he used to inspire me even way back in the days before I had a blog (the olden days!) I would post on the Weight Watchers message boards, but to be honest, I never made any bonds there. A lot of my posts got deleted because (god forbid) they weren't DIET related.

Even on the board that was specifically set up for people with 200+ pounds to lose, I still didn't feel like I belonged. BUT...it did lead me to FreeWebs, which eventually (with some prodding from Dina) led me to Blogger. And I DO feel like I've found my place here. I'm free to rant and swear without worrying about some overbearing mod-type deleting my threads. I get TONS of support and advice and even some annoying criticism...that I need...sometimes.

I think it's so important to just find people that you can relate to. It's not easy being a 400 pound woman in the world. I get stared at and points and giggles and that's just when I'm standing around minding my own business. I like knowing I can bitch about it here and have people there to say "things will get better" or "fuck those assholes!"

I remember when I was like 10 and my niece and her friends were making fun of me for being fat. I got upset and started to cry. I went home and my dad asked me why I was crying. I told him it was because people were making fun of me for being fat and it made me sad. His answer: "well...maybe you shouldn't be so fat." Thus began a lifetime of holding in a lot of rage and sadness and just being the funny fat friend so at least they'd be laughing WITH me, not AT me.

I guess I'm just saying...it's nice to have a place to let it out. I feel less crazy :)

That being said...there are lots of new peeps joining our ranks and they all need our support! Having a bunch of great people who read my stories is great. Having people comment about how they relate is AWESOME! I want everyone to have this! I compiled a short list of new blogs that I've been reading in the hope that you'll stop by and check them out too! So...do it, eh?

Fuck You Cookie - Chris' exceptionally-titled blog. Plus, he's brewing his own beer, people.

Fatty Blogsticks - her awesome drawings alone should be enough to garner a million followers...but it's also a great blog. I'm a big fan of her 52 Reasons, so far :)

Twon - A fellow low-carber! Go check out his Energy Kick-Start Challenge...then join it!

Dear Dr Atkins- Rob is yet another low-carber. WE ARE EVERYWHERE!

411 Gurl - Cutest blog format ever! Also, she's around my size so we vowed to kick ass together. Go cheer her on!

Project Look Good Naked - Katy: A Sister in the Struggle! She leaves great comments too!

Flabby McGee - A cool gal trying to get healthy. Diabetes can suck it!

Losing Harry - Watch Al's stationary bike tour across America! He freaking lost 11 pounds this week!

The Clydesdale Project - So it turns out Clyde's blog isn't as new as I thought, but I can't NOT include him. He's way supportive and always leaves me nice helpful comments, PLUS...he's like, the next Lance Armstrong. But with both balls..........as far as I know (?)

BACK FROM THE GRAVE! Don't forget these oldies but goodies making their most triumphant return!

Twinklydots - If you need a 4X size tie-died bustier with attached tu-tu, you've found your gal.

Farsination - Congrats on the Masters! That kicks ass :)

A Load Off My Chest - He's back and almost at goal!

Whew, I sure hope all those links work! Maybe you don't know this about me, but I'm actually NOT some computer genius, you know? If they don't work, lemme know.

If you've got a new blog that I haven't found yet and you need some lovin', get yourself out there! Post some comments and spill your guts. Send some love out into the blogosphere and you'll be surprised at the amount you get back in return.

Now, before I leave, and to save this post from being a total mushy love-fest, I have a video to post! So like, you know the one lady at work that's doing low-carb with me? She LOVES it. Like...for real, love. Not that he's-kinda-cute-love, but that I-WOULD-DIE-FOR-YOU-love, you know? It's because she loves butter. I'm not really a fan, but whatever...some people love butter and she's one of them peoples. So every day at lunch she busts out the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray and goes to town on whatever she's eating. I bet she gets tendonitis from all that damn spritzin'. Anywho, she thought I wasn't paying attention and just sprayed some right into her mouth the other day like it was Binaca and she was about to do some passionate kissin'. I DEMANDED she do it again and let me film it! For you guys, obv.

I'm gonna really miss her when her heart gives out.

Alright, this is long as shit, so I'm out. Click those links! Share the love!

Just letting it out...

2010-05-08T05:36:00.000-07:00

Gah, this weekend blows.

Yesterday when I got up for work, my dang car wouldn't start. I mean, it wouldn't even try! I convinced myself it was the battery and had to go wake Jeff up to take me to work. Only problem is, he had just gone to bed like an hour before I had to wake him. He is NOT good on sleep-deprivation! I had to keep pacing around yelling "C'MON BABE I'M GONNA BE LATE!" about 40 times a minute because he kept zonking out like some toddler on a long car ride. I shouldn't bitch because I'm sure I would have been one grumpy bitch had the tables been turned, and I was technically only 3 minutes late. But when you work in a call center, three minutes matters! Man, I hate that shit.

Anyway, it wasn't the battery! Alternator. Bleh. $144.99. There goes THAT paycheck. Oh well, cars fuck up, that's life, I guess. Hopefully I'll get it back today because I have shit.to.do. Ya know?

Mother's Day is always all emo for me. I miss my mom like crazyyyyyy. Every day I remember something about her and it makes me smile, then makes me sad. I really wish she was still around to help me figure out my life and tell me everything will be okay. And to sing along loudly to songs I hate on the radio in the car. :)

It's also the tw0-year anniversary of my niece's death. Which still sucks every day. Mostly I'm just mad about it. I miss her a lot and it just...sucks. At least twice a week I'll think of something I wanna say to her and then have to remember she won't be there to hear it. That girl could quote Anchorman lines like nobody's business! Gah...I just miss her so much.

Plus, I find myself questioning and struggling with my own beliefs about death and what happens afterwards lately. It's a weird feeling. I've held on to these thoughts so tightly and defensively my whole life for comfort and strength, and now it's almost like I'm fighting myself to change them. I just don't know anymore and it feels so weird to say it. There's all this guilt in letting go. It makes dealing with death so much harder.

Add in more bullshit drama from my sisters who aren't happy unless they have something to be pissed off about. I just don't care anymore.

All I wanna do is stay on plan and keep going and doing this for myself.

I'll make it through this weekend and I know I'll be okay.

Happier posts next time...promise!

Tonite...we dine in hell.

2010-05-07T06:28:00.000-07:00

Before I get started...if you weren't around for the introduction of Project 300, kindly click HERE and join in on the fun!

I think the giveaway will be 300 things. To one lovely person. That's a lot of things. I haven't decided what things yet, but I promise no cheese puffs or some other fatty gag like that.

Side note: I wonder how long it would take a person to put down 300 cheese puffs? I remember once in fatter days, we bought one of those barrels of cheese balls from Sam's. You know the ones? Like a fat little plastic barrel full of finger-staining-artery-cloggin' goodness. I remember thinking that it was like the fattest thing I ever ate. In hindsight, I'm sure that's not true. BUT...I think sitting on the bed watching Top Chef reruns and eating from a barrel pretty much is like the prescription for an early death.

Now I just gotta get that barrel full of pork rinds. No carbs! From here on out, I would like all my food to be in barrel form.

Enough about barrels, GEEZ. I challenge any of you to use that word five times in one cohesive blog post. Winner gets a Barrel of Monkeys. Oh shit, make that six!

In other more boring barrel-less (7!) news, my boss made like a weird comment about my weight today. Since we started the challenge thing at work, I've lost roughly 14 pounds. We were standing around gabbing like a bunch of old hens and I was bitching that losing 14 out of 400 ain't gonna get it. Then she was like "I can totally tell you've lost weight." And I was like "uh yeah, okay." And she's like "no, seriously, like in your...(makes hand gesture)...this area."

For the record, the hand gesture was the equivalent of like a circle around my neck/chins area. So...like, my neck fat. So I said "you mean my neck fat? You can say it!" She looked at me like I just said I was a martian or something. NECK. FAT. It's a thing, and I have it. 2.5 chins leading into a fatty neck. My beard of fat. I'M okay with it, why can't she be?

Apparently it's one of those words she won't say. Like how she always says "oh my heck!" instead of "oh my god!" Mormons, you know? Thou shalt not mention thy neighbor's beard of fat.

Anywho, since it does indeed exist, and she noticed it going away-ish, that's a great thing! I accept it, but that don't mean I want it. Like herpes....Wait, what in the hell? Heck. I meant heck.

This got weird. I don't really have herpes. If I do, someone's got some 'splainin' to do! Like the opposite of Mary. Immaculate clap. This ends NOW.

Did someone mention something about 'cohesive'? Feel free to pray for my soul at will. Thanks!

Two fitty. Also, awesomeness.

2010-05-06T10:23:00.000-07:00

Whoa, I just realized I have 250 Followers as of today! That kicks asssss!!

That's awesome, dudes, seriously.

Here's the deal: If I can get up to 300 followers, I'll have a rad face-rockin' giveaway! So...tell your pals! Link to this post and you'll get a FREE ENTRY into said awesome future giveaway (you know you wanna...)!

Project 300! I'll keep tryin' to get closer to 300 pounds and you guys try to get me to 300 Followers...deal??

Let's doooo this!

The fish so nice they named it twice!

2010-05-05T18:54:00.000-07:00

Day 10!

Today kinda sucked for a Cinco de Mayo. Everyone at work was munching on chips and homemade salsa all day while I had my daily meat-fest. It was the first true craving that I've had since I started low-carb again. But for some reason, it really made me want ice cream. Maybe it's because no binge is ever complete without at least a solitary pint of some flavor du jour of Ben & Jerry's. So wanting to eat bad shit makes me crave ice cream. My body...it know what it wants...and it's not that fucking mahi-mahi I picked my way through for dinner.

Crudely-drawn ice cream cone = 0 Net Carbs*

I'm pretty sure the real craving is just a PMS-y symptom. My shit's like all jacked up so I never know when that crazy bitch is gonna show up to ruin my day(s). But my back hurts and I keep crying over like the STUPIDEST shit...so yeah prolly.

Today I was reading this LiveJournal of this girl that died from Cystic Fibrosis recently and I was sitting at my desk bawling all day like a dummy! Don't get me wrong, it's sad. Like...awful. But still, to cry at work? To risk being seen and clowned for a lifetime?? Stupid emotions!

Also...super bitchy. I can tell because I almost threw some kid off a stairwell today when I got home from work. ARGH! These damn kids in this apartment complex drive me crazy! For some reason they decided that MY stairwell was the perfect place for their dang clubhouse. So from the time I get home until Dark:thirty, all I hear is a bunch of bratty kids outside my door talking shit.

So today I get home and this tiny jerk is standing on the ledge above my door holding a WATER BALLOON. Oh hell no. I looked up at her and go "If I were you, I would NOT do what you're probably thinking about doing." She giggles. For some reason, this enrages Trish-Hulk. "I'm SERIOUS. DO. NOT." More goddamn giggles.

I am a grown fucking woman standing 2 feet from my doorstep afraid to unlock the damn thing! Growling through my teeth at someone two feet tall. If there has ever been a more pathetic sight, surely I have not seen it. (and don't call me Shirley, ahthankyou...)

I stay there, frozen, and gaze an extremely hate-filled stare. She sucks her teeth and says "I wasn't even gonna throw it anyway, GAWD!" Sass! Sass at a time like this??! Does she not know the egg is dropping?? I will shake the shit out of a kid, dammit.

Alright, not really, I love kids and blah blah blah, but I'm just saying...Today is not the day.

That being said, at least I didn't fuck up my diet. TRULY AMAZING. Truly.

What is this? A center for ants???

2010-05-04T06:15:00.000-07:00

So I ordered a swimsuit the other day since the one I got at Catherine's was like a lesson in tuggin' and pullin' and to be honest, it just plain didn't fit. If only denial burned calories...

So anyway, the thing's supposed to arrive on May 10-ish. I've spent the past few days staring at my extremely hyper-white legs and wondering what to do about 'em. This one girl at work is talking about having a pool party, and it strikes fear in my extremely self-conscious heart. Or maybe that's from all the beef I've been eating. And I don't mean that metaphorically.

Anyway, I don't wanna tan, cause that's gross and impossible. My skin has two shades: White and red. (add in my blue veins = AMURICA!) There's no light golden brown on these hamhocks. So the sun is out.

Then there's spray tans. Getting naked and being sprayed by strange liquids. HELLO EVERY SATURDAY NITE OF MY LIFE! Or none of them. Amirite? Oh yeah.

Moving on, I'm talking to my boss about my dilemna and she gets an overly-excited look on her face and screams out "TAN TOWELS!" Once I got her to calm down, she told me they're like these towels that you rub on your parts and they turn brownish(?). Less whitish. Sounds weird as hell, but she insisted that they're man's greatest accomplishment since the space program. So I was like "well...alright, bring me some to try."

So she stops by my desk today and this is what she gave me:

What in the hell?? They're like the size of alcohol swabs! This is when I realize that my 160ish pound boss has like ZERO concept of my true size. Sure she knows I'm a fattie and she knows my weight (UGH), but still...what the fuck am I supposed to do with these tiny little towelettes? I would need like one per appendage and like 40 for the rest of me.

Apparently that little sniplet of a towel is supposed to cover half your body. Well, not my body. But some bodies, I guess. As for me, I will keep searching the world for a way to be less white. What do you guys do?

In other news, I lost a little weight last week. The low carb saga continues. If I'm counting my weight last Monday, I'm down just over 5 pounds. But the last time I "recorded" a weigh-in for the Biggest Loser dealy at work, I was at 388.8. So today was 386.0. So theoretically, I guess you could say I lost 2.8 in like a million weeks since before my birthday when I completely lost my mind and ate as a family of four.

But at least it's a loss.

Still in second place though...Curses! That bitch is like...unbreakable. Time to go all 80s sitcom and send her some truffles from a secret admirer. By any means necessary, dudez...

I learned I'm not good at drawing Sheep.

2010-04-30T06:57:00.000-07:00

Howdy amigos!

FIRST OFF...I simply must say thanks. Haha, when I posted about that message board being unaccepting of my way kewl blog, I surely wasn't expecting you guys to turn into a bunch of protective Mama Bears...BUT...it was very awesome. Each comment brought giant smiles and giggles and even some blushing! I never think of this ratty ol' blog as meaning anything to anyone, so it was definitely flattering, guys. So...thanks!

Here's a dark weird cell phone pic to show my gratitude:

In other news, I am still low-carbing it and it's going pretty okay. I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm all IN LOVE with it yet, but...it's going okay. In theory, it seems good. Someone's like "yo, you can have a pork chop for breakfast, dawg!" And you're all "Hellz yeah, sign me up!" Then one day you have a pork chop for breakfast and you're like "shit, i see why the rest of the world has deemed this a bad idea!" Like, ouch, heartburn. So I tried eggs. Still heartburn!

I can't really do breakfast. All my life, I've been anti-breakfast! I know that's prolly (part of) the reason why I got so fat to begin with, but the heart wants what it wants! And my heart doesn't like being clogged so early in the morning. Come back at noonish. Pork chop be gone, son.

However, and I know people say this all the time, and I never believe them either: BUT...I'm really not that hungry anymore. Well, I mean, I was never hungry. I don't even know what that word really means. If I may steal a theory from the always-great YumYucky, I am mostly just GREEDY. Cravings gimme gimme gimme! But I don't really have that anymore. Well, not right now.

According to the evil message board, I'll get those feelings back after I get through this whole "Induction" thingamajig. No rush! It's nice not to be sitting at my desk trying to come up with a mathematical formula to figure out exactly how much I can eat without going over my stupid points. I just don't think about food. It's there, and I know I'm gonna eat it when it's time to eat, but otherwise, I'm not having to create equations for snacks, and that's pretty rockin'. I pretty much DON'T snack, which is also rockin' and kinda makes me hate myself. WHO ARE YOU?

Oh well, it's only day 5 and I'm usually real big on congratulating myself too quick then masterfully fucking up, so I'm just gonna say...For now, I'm doing this shit. And it's goin' alright.

In yet even more awesome news, my heart rate, it's dropping. Beginning to resemble that of a real human, even!

That's it for now. Keep on doin' what ya do.

Stairway...denied.

2010-04-28T06:10:00.000-07:00

I joined this low carb message board, right? So I put my blog link in my signature hoping I could drum up some new bloggy pals. WELL...they emailed me and said they deleted the link because my blog was too racey! UNFIT! The nerve! So maybe I say fuck a lot...doesn't make me a bad person, you know?

Oh well.

Mono was like, the best diet ever.

2010-04-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

Captain's Log: Day two in this strange land of pork chops and heavy whipping cream. Strong desire to eat Saltines. Must...resist...world's...most...boring...crackers...

I'm doing low-carb. I know I only want crackers because I can't have them. That's right, I said can't. This is where my old buddy Weight Watchers steps in and says "Stick with me, you can have anything!" then shows me a picture of a cupcake. It DOESN'T tell me that it's either the cupcake or a day's worth of food...my pick, of course.

I guess the thing is that I DO need restrictions. I need the equivalent of a drill sargent standing over me saying "drop that twinkie, chubbs!" But that gets expensive. And he's got my power bill SKY HIGH. So that's out.

I can't have some hepcat new-agey diet dude telling me "eat whatever you want. It's cool, maaannn." Cause then I eat whatever I want. Then I get fatter. Then my diabetes is all wonky. Then I die...or something. All because I listened to some hippie. Let that be a lesson to ya.

I KNOW it works for some of you guys. I know it COULD work for me if I wasn't such a greedy Chubb-Rock and I didn't have to eat in mass quantities.

Maybe this plan will work for me. Maybe it won't. Maybe it's "back to the drawring board, mum." Only time will tell. At this point, I would be willing to do ANY diet if I could actually just stick to it and not spend my days thinking of creative ways to cheat.

I guess there's always going into a voluntary coma or wiring my jaw shut. Keep hope alive!

OFF TOPIC

2010-04-23T06:45:00.000-07:00

I wish Dina would blog more. I miss the good ol' days when we all had high hopes of meeting in Cleveland and half of our OG crew didn't stop blogging altogether. Remember those days??

I didn't feel like blogging about my shitty performance as a dieter, so I just crudely copied this conversation I had with Dina about one of the dudes at work. His zany antics make work fun...well, less not-fun.

In a last ditch effort to stay slightly topical, dieting really does wonders for my blood pressure:
I know my heartrate's still high, but I have tachycardia and I'm still a solid 390 so LAY OFF, eh?

TGIFF. They're have a late-as-hell birthday party for me at Jeff's sister's house tonight since the last two weekends have been hectic. At some point, you just gotta say "why bother?"...BUT...I do wanna play Trivial Pursuit, so I'll allow it. Some gifts would be cool too, right? RIGHT!

Have a good weekend.

Pity-fool.

2010-04-22T06:50:00.000-07:00

I dunno where my motivation went but I wish it would get its ass back over here. I keep being lazy and fucking up and in turn, hating myself for being lazy and fucking up.

Family shit and work shit and relationship shit and all I wanna do is bury it under a thick layer of frozen custard. I hate dealing with shit. I would happily live a lifetime of denial if it meant never having to have another confrontation in my life. I just want sunshine and rainbows but it keeps raining shit all over my happy little blissfully ignorant town.

Hate it.

Hate how I deal with it.

I worked out a whole hour yesterday for Tony's challenge and even ate (gasp!) a salad for dinner, then came home and ate like 6 granola bars after midnight because of a FaceBook message my sister left me. I wish that bitch never even got a FaceBook...it was better when we just weren't talking!

I moved 1500 miles away from my closest relative and it's still not enough.

Alright, look, sorry I'm so "woe is me" lately. I promise to shake this shitty mood and get my act together sometime in the not-so-distant future. No one wants to read about people being depressed and my main goal in life is to make you people laugh, so bear with me through this weird emo period and I swear things will get better. Thanks.

But for now...le sigh...woe is me. :(

Eff.

2010-04-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

Going though some weird-ass emotional phase. I'm skipping weigh-in today because I fucked up a lot this weekend and I don't need the number to be one more thing that's pissing me off. It'll be okay, I have these Debbie Downer days every now and then, but I always bounce back. I already bought healthy groceries to replace the ones that rotted in the fridge from a week of neglect due to my "fuck-it" attitude.

Hopefully this will be a way better week.

She blinded me with Science.

2010-04-15T07:49:00.000-07:00

Birthday meltdown is officially over. It wasn't as bad as it COULD have been, but it was way worse than it SHOULD have been. It couldn't be helped! I mean, come on, you only turn...32...once, you know?? The fact of the matter is that I was born with a rare terminal condition and the doctor told my mom that I would never live to see 32. Eh, not really, I just wanted cake. Lots and lots of cake. Dare I say 'too much' cake? I dunno. Those words don't even compute.

But like I said, it wasn't ALL bad. I had all your loving thoughtful (nagging) comments in the back of my head as I did noble things like putting the fork down mid-slice and leaving it there. It would be rude not to at least try it, and I'm like, super lady-like and mindful of my manners at all times. At.all.times.

My birthday (week) was like a case study in Newton's Third Law of Motion. Here it is in case you forgot it:

Action: Declined chicken fried steak the size of my head in exchange for smallish but extraordinarily tasty plate of Indian food. Even turned down bakery-case full of never-before-tried Indian desserts.
Reaction: Ate a medium bag of BUTTERED popcorn and a pack of Starburst I sneaked in (eff you, movie prices!) when I went to see Hot Tub Time Machine (multiple Oscar nods inevitable.)

Action: Acted happy and surprised at THREE different restaurants when employees brought me cake and sang their corporate version of Happy Birthday to meeeeeeee. Only ate about two bites of each cake. (this was hard!)
Reaction: Lectured Jeff about buying me a pint of my favorite Ben & Jerry's ice cream, then proceeded to eat the whole thing sitting next to him on the couch watching Life (this is great, are you watching it???)

Action: Went to a Craft Fair on my actual birthday and walked the whole Convention Center twice before my foot really started to hate me again.
Reaction: Second trip around was primarily for all the samples I skipped on the first go-round. Ate about one million samples. Bought no crafts!

Action: Used my birthday moneys to purchase healthy things like Shape-Ups, Tone-Ups, swim shorts and Just Dance. Word on the street is there is a Body Bugg making its way to me.
Reaction: So far, only wore the Shape-Ups to go eat at a Brazilian Steakhouse where I ate about a year's worth of beef in one sitting. Realized I am powerless about hot Brazilian dudes and their giant swords full of meat. (only vaguely sexual.)

So there you have it. In a word: Counterproductive. But today I'm back. Back at work. Back on track. Back in black. Etc.

Now let's get those Shape-Ups and BodyBuggs and test another of Newton's kick ass theories:

Let's burn some calories, people.

It's my Work Birthday!

2010-04-09T09:03:00.000-07:00

My real one's not until Sunday, but we're doing it up banker-style today. (Bankers do it with a penalty for early withdrawal...heh heh. What's up, baby?)

Also, because I have Monday off, I weighed in today for the challenge and I'm at 388.2. THREE POUNDS DOWN IN FOUR DAYS! WOO! Also, I'm outta the 390s! Yay for Tricia!

Now...time to fuck it up! How inconvenient of you, birthday weekend!

This is my desk...with cupcakes. There's even a cupcake on my card!

Have a good weekend, dudez.

Everything's coming up Milhouse!

2010-04-06T06:21:00.000-07:00

Amazingly, through some sort of crazy Easter Jeebus Magic, I was still able to lose 1.4 last week. Which made me the top loser for the week. Boy, that is sad. I mean, I'm trying but still messing up quite often and to be so close to the lead only shows that everyone else sucks as bad as me, so thank goodness for that.

That other girl is still in the lead, but only by a technicality. She used her no-weigh-in pass today so her +2.2 (post-vacation fatness) wouldn't be counted against her. HAD IT COUNTED, we would be in an exact tie for first. I plan on kicking her ass purely out of spite now. And also because of...the moneys. OH MONEYS! I love you.

I'm hoping people keep being lackluster in their performance since it IS my birthday week and it's already kinda rocky being all PMS-y and like...Easter-y...and all that other shit. I would like some cake, is all I'm saying. So I don't wanna hear it. It's my party and I'll whine about my post-cake fat if I want to.

As far as other birthday shit goes, it's quite surprising to me that I've been actively asking for REAL gifts instead of my usual "just gimme money, I'm hard to buy for" line. And I'm actually asking for healthy junk. I think last year I got like $180 bucks for my birthday and I'm pretty sure I invested at least half of it into ribs of the baby-back variety.

If I get enough scratch this year, I'll prolly buy a BodyBugg. I'm pretty interested to find out how many calories I'm burning in my various waddlings throughout the day. $200 is no joke just for come curiosity though, so I'm hoping it'll also motivate me to get off my ass a little more. Say, if any of you have an extra one just laying around, feel free to email me and I'll gladly send you my address so you can send it on over! That goes for all other birthday gifts also. It would be rude of me not to offer, you know? :)

Tomorrow...I will kick some ass. I'm off next Monday so I need to kick ass EVERY DAY THIS WEEK since I'm weighing in early on Friday. No more Cadbury's. Fuck all rabbit-shaped confections. That goes doubly for anything filled that caramel.

Adios.

Throwing up chocolate prolly wouldn't be THAT bad...

2010-04-05T06:08:00.000-07:00

So...I failed Easter. Sucks because I worked really hard all week. Stayed in my calories, pushed myself a little each day physically. Bummer.

Not too excited to weigh-in this morning.

Check out my shiny Easter mask!
My birthday's this Sunday so I gotta try real hard not to throw this week away.

Once again it was chocolate fondue that fucked me up. The same lady keeps showing up all these family parties bringing her fondue pot and like a million yummy things to dip in chocolate. (Cheesecake bits??) I don't wanna go so far as to say I wish she'd die before the next party, but let's just say, I've thought it.

That bit of nastiness aside, I hope everyone had a pleasant Easter.

Stupid mondays.

The touch of your hand makes my pulse react...

2010-04-02T06:53:00.000-07:00

So we had YET ANOTHER potluck today. Because it's been like a whole two weeks since the last one, right? Feeders! Food-pushers! I'm surrounded :(

It was a Taco Bar potluck. Lots of bullshit I would love to dive into face-first...but...le sigh...shouldn't. And didn't! If deprivation were an Olympic sport, then today, I would have taken gold. It's always REALLY surprising to me when I can just steer clear. It's a very new feeling not to succumb to, at the very LEAST, a 3:00 cookie or seven.

I know, I know, it's all about moderation, not deprivation, but well...I'm not there yet. I dunno if I'll ever be there, but one thing I do know is that I'm not there yet. One cookie opens up the entire night to the "fuck it" attitude, and then I'm laying in bed hours later wallowing in Snickers wrappers and regret.

But today...I had a plan, see?

I can have a taco. I just can't have THOSE tacos. Greasy fatty spicy (oh so delicious) ground beef that's been sitting in a crock pot in it's own fat becoming more and more awesome as hours go by, hey, I don't need that shit...I got......oh, chicken.

And and and...I got low-carb tortillas!

So I made my own damn taco. I even stole their lettuce and tomato and the teeniest tiniest bit of shredded cheese...

Then I ate one of these...

And ended the night with this:

Me and cookies have an Ike and Tina type relationship. Today I'm giving it the ol' one-finger salute and telling it to 'get the fuck out muh face.' But tomorrow, I could be back! Begging Ida Mae for forgiveness and saying that I only hurt it because I love it! Hopefully not though. This is one toxic relationship I could live without...if only it wasn't the obvious talent in this relationship.

Be strong, Tina. What's love got to do with it, remember??

The answer is nothing, by the way. In case you were still wondering...

All Up In Muh Grilllll...

2010-03-31T04:31:00.000-07:00

So as far as the weigh-in goes, I was up 0.2, which ain't bad considering all the shit I ate over the weekend. Well, I was up like a pound, but then I peed and ran (walked slowly) up the stairs and weighed in again and it was only up 0.2. If only I could have done that about 14 more times, then maybe I could have stayed in the lead. Also, this one girl lost 5.6 in one week! I call SHENANIGANS! She's only like 170something, so how in the hell? Colonic? Laxatives? Diet and Exercise? BALDERDASH! I dunno how I'm gonna catch up to that ho now, but I'll still try. She's on vacation this week so maybe I'll get lucky and she will spend the week in a vat of nacho cheese or possibly grow a large tumor. Noncancerous...I'm not a monster.

Lest you think your eyes are deceiving you, YES, that does say stairs. MY SWORN MORTAL ENEMY! They still kick my ass every time. It's only one stinkin' flight but goddang. You'd think I was trying to heft 400 pounds up them or something. Oh.

I only do it twice a day for now. Once for the morning pee break and once for the afternoon pee break. It's okay as long as I don't run into anyone I know in the hallway on the way back who expects me to have the breath to say something. This one lady cut me off RIGHT at the top of the staircase and was all "Hey stranger, I never see you anymore!" She's right, but NOW IS NOT THE TIME, LADY. I just coughed and was like "stupid cold!" then gave her the universal hand signal for "call me" cause if I had to muster up even one more outta-breath word, I'm pretty sure I woulda dropped dead right there at her feet.

I have been made to understand that stairs "will get easier." Only time will tell...

Diet-wise, I been doing pretty good. There's a story about a lollipop, but it's for another day cause this is already getting long and I have things to doooooo.

Check it: Have you guys met Big Clyde? He's a pretty cool fella, so maybe you should go check out his blog if you haven't already. He's hosting a new challenge called The MayDay Challenge, so I'm doing that. At this point, I figure I need all the challenges I can get since it's so close to so many food-centered events in my life coming up. The more nagging thoughts of impending failure I have in my head, the better! The object of the challenge is to set a goal...then do it by May 1. My goal is to lose ten pounds. It's doable so I'm gonna do it. Check it out if you want in :)

I would like to end this post by saying officially that...it's grilling season. Watch out, bitches!
81 degrees...unacceptable!

If you like making love at midnite...

2010-03-29T04:54:00.001-07:00

This weekend really got away from me. I'm praying to the Gods of Pounds and Ounces to have mercy for my weigh-in this morning, but I never was much into faith-based healing, so I'm not holding my breath or anything.

I went to Angel's house for Girls' Night, which was essentially a night of eating junk dipped in chocolate fondue (where have you been all my life?), drinking an unladylike amount of booze and bitching about the men in our lives. But that's not all! There was also...

Annoying fucking cats!...

Inappropriately-titled foods no one would touch!...

Bracelet name-calling!...

Pictionary with a lot of dick drawings!...

MEGABED!...

Journey sing-alongs!...

The worst socks ever!...

And of course, pina coladas!

Stupid booze. I don't even like to drink. I take my alcohol like I take my coffee...resembling a liquified candy bar. I seriously can't drink unless it's a cup of sugar, so it's kinda pointless because it's not like there's ever enough booze in it to really get drunk and there seems to be just enough for me to want to wash it down with a bag of Chex Mix and brownies the size of my head. Shit is dumb.

To be honest, it could have been worse. I know I've soberly eaten way more junk at one time, but still...I was on a roll, and I fucked up. But I'm over it. Back on my shit today and looking to get rid of whatever fatness I picked up this weekend. I vowed a strict No-Candy Easter for myself and I plan on sticking to it.

At some point in the near future, I hope I'll be able to have my fun without eating it. There's always something going on and it's just gonna take some good ol' fashioned JUST SAY NO to get through all the bullshit occasions in my life. I'm glad I went out and I'm glad I had fun, but I think I could have had fun without the regrettable food decisions and maybe I was just looking for an excuse to eat crap.

Make it a good week, guys!

Shame on all of you! Give me my dignity! I just came here to see "Honk If You're Horny" in peace.

2010-03-26T05:23:00.000-07:00

I actually got some time away today from the World's Most Boring Trainee and got a chance to catch up on some blogs. Still can't comment most of them from work, which still sucks a lot, because comments make the world go 'round! (hint.)

I read something today that made me think. Dangerous, I know. You know Tony, right? Not the Tony from that Subway diet blog, but the other one, the panda! Well he posted about food porn and how much it sucks sometimes to be staring at pictures of shit you wanna eat but shouldn't. As someone who now posts weekly pics of the highest-calorie collages on the interwebz, I will admit, I felt a little guilty!

On one hand, I wanna think if we don't have enough willpower to not be terribly tempted by PICTURES of food, what hope do we have around the real thing?? But on the other hand, torture is illegal for a reason!

That being said, my damn profile picture is a donut. It combines two of my favorite things in the whole wide world: dough and sugar. Plus, it's the donut from The Simpsons!

(Side Note: When the Simpsons Movie came out, they turned some 7-11 stores into Kwik-E Marts and IT WAS THE MOST AWESOME THING EVER! Me and Jeff went there at 3am and got awesome fresh pink donuts with sprinkles, Squishies, boxes of Krusty-Os and a six-pack of Buzz Cola! My heart swelled with fangirl glee, then hardened from cholesterol. Many awesome pictures were taken including this one:

featuring my all-time favorite Simpsons character: JASPER! In a freezer, no less. I am sad for him, but also happy to see him, you know? Anyway, END SIDENOTE!)

So yeah, I loved that donut so I love that picture. But who the heck wants to stare at a donut all day while they eat a plate of boring veggies? Not me, that's who.

So I got a new profile pic. One to reflect my shiny new health kick!

Hopefully it doesn't tempt anyone to make bad decisions. Unless you're allergic to grapefruits...in which case, sucks to be you because I LOVE GRAPEFRUITS!

If you ever see the donut picture come back, assume things are NOT good and feel free to give me a mighty kick right in my ass. Thanks, friends!

P.S. If you've never seen the "King-Sized Homer" episode of the Simpsons, I would STRONGLY urge you to do so immediately. Like, immediately. You can thank me later. Byebye.

WIDE Wednesday!

2010-03-24T05:16:00.000-07:00

Exercise is a relative term. I think all forms of activity should be counted as exercise. It doesn't have to be in a gym or on a mountain. Some of us have a broken foot and do what we can. That being said, I've been really busting my ass the last few days at work and I've been coming home every night with a very swollen left foot begging for sweet sweet release from it's caged Skecher.

It makes me wonder if this stupid foot will ever get better. I was explaining to Jeff tonite that eating better makes me naturally want to do things besides sit on the couch watching Pawn Stars marathons. I sit there, I want to eat. I can go to the mall and pass every pizza and pretzel stand and not care because I'm not sitting somewhere deeply immersed in finding out if the Paul Revere spoon is a real or fake. (it was real!) BUT...this foot is fucking with my good intentions. It's like walking around with a bear trap stuck to my leg.

I guess walking around a little more at work and defying the deeply set Rules of the Cubicle, coupled by some mall browsing a few times a week, will have to work for now. I'd like to see some pool time in my future but apparently there's some law that no one I know will set up their pool until at least May, so I'm just biding my time...

In this rare time in my life where I'm trying to make no excuses, it sucks that there are so many readily available. I don't intend on letting this foot keep me fat...but it will make things slower. Oh well, baby steps, remember? Baby bear-trap steps...

Anywho, it's Wednesday, so that means it's time to see WHAT I DIDN'T EAT! (who else realized the acronym is WIDE? oh man...perfect.) There was lots of shit I didn't eat from that potluck at work. I was pretty proud of myself. Nary a cookie touched these lips! I ate a lot of my green fruit tray...and pretty much no one else touched it. So hurt.

If I'm being totally honest, I did eat 6 mini eggs. But that was only like 100 calories and I had that to spare. I still included it because I didn't eat the whole bag in one sitting, which would have been the norm. There, now my conscience is free and I can sleep at night. Make it a great Wednesday, dudes!

I represent Queens, she was raised out in Brooklyn...

2010-03-23T05:04:00.000-07:00

So...I only lost 1.6 this week. Not sure why...I did all the right shit. Might be that I'm eating too late at night. Or too many carbs. It's a work in progress, progress being the operative word here. Meaning, hey, at least I'm still doing it, and doing it fairly well, if me and LL Cool J have anything to say about it.

BUT...I'm finally leading the dang Biggest Loser Challenge at work! Hooray! Only by a super tiny margin of 1/10th of a point, but it still counts! I also got the highest loss percentage of the week, even with my paltry 1.6. Rejoice!

I will admit, when my boss came up to my desk and ducked her head in to tell me I was in the lead, it was pretty darn exciting. Small victories! Then she patted me on the back and I was like "WHAT IS THIS STRANGE AWESOME SENSATION??" A pat on the back, like a real one. Definitely something I need more of in my worklife...and life-life, in general.

Re-enactment shown here, with dogs.

Now alls I gotta do is keep kickin' it for 11 more weeks and I win da moneyssss. I decided if I win, I'm gonna use the money to buy a steak the size of my head. Kidding...I'll prolly pay the power bill or something boring like that. Or pay someone to fan me during these upcoming hellish summer months. Or...get some workout shit. The world is my oyster! Just me and my $150ish dollars!

Mostly, I think I wanna win just to like...win. For the pats on the back!

Now I know why they call it Bloody Sunday.

2010-03-22T05:32:00.000-07:00

You know, I was always taught to respect my elders. But somewhere along the way, I think I realized that not all old people deserve to be respected.

Today started out good enough. I knew Catherine's was having a 40% off sale so I decided to ruin a perfectly good day by going there to try on swimsuits. Those swimsuits were like, "whoa whoa whoa, so you've been on a diet for three weeks...let's not get carried away here!" I ended up buying one because "Mall Daze" and perfectly-stationed mirrors made me believe I looked okay in it. When I got home and tried it on in front of a REAL mirror, I quickly realized I'd be making a return in my not-so-distant future. Oh well, here's to another summer of shorts and t-shirts.

I had a point to this...oh yeah! So this old lady's in front of me in line, and she's talking shit from like the second she gets in line. It's a mall on a Sunday, lady...there's a line, deal with it. It's finally her turn to pay and she has a million questions about sizes because she's trying to buy her daughter some jeans. That's nice enough and all. But Catherine's sizes are all stupid because God forbid a woman has to buy a 32W instead of some made up code-word size 10 in fat-ass Catherine's sizes. Shit is dumb, but whatever.

So the lady's like "well, she needs a 6X." To which the store employee informs her that they don't carry sizes that high. This is when the just-regular-grumpy-0ld-lady turns into psycho-bitch-from-hell-old-lady. She says "I swear. I wish this bitch would buy her own damn pants. I tell you the fatter her ass gets, the lazier she gets!" Whoa. First off, best chill on that fat and lazy talk considering you are in a store full of fat ladies who are probably dieting and pissed off already that the world hates fatties. (read: me.)

Awkwardness ensues. You can tell everyone within earshot is torn between wanting to slice her face open and wanting to understand that it's just "wacky old person talk." I am doing everything in my power not to grab a pair of nearby Spanxx and put the old bat out her misery. She shuts up and pays and I figure she's outta there. NO. She decides to stick around and hang out at the counter for like no fucking reason other than to further test my impending murderous rage.

I step up to pay and the lady takes that tag thingy off my swimsuit. Here she goes piping up again. "Hey, that's a big swimsuit. What size IS that??" The lady tells her. I stare daggers. "Yeah, that might fit her. It's real pretty. Yeah, if it's fit YOU, I'm sure it'll fit her!" Oh great. So now I'm bigger than the fat lazy bitch at home that won't buy her own pants. I'm feeling like super-good about myself right about now, by the way.

Long story short (four paragraphs too late), they didn't have another one in that size so her old ass finally leaves. Part of me wants to keep the swimsuit just so I know it's not in stock for her. But...well, I need the money. :)

It's just...I dunno. I don't get what happened to you in your life that just makes you decide to go out on a Sunday afternoon to fuck with people you don't even know. If she thinks they're just harmless statements, then it's time to put her in a home. Since when does turning 70 give you a license to be a complete asshole?

Maybe I'm being a hypocrite because I'm sitting here talking mad shit about the elderly, but it's not like I'm going into medical supply stores or a Denny's at 4pm and saying stereotypical just-plain-mean shit about the old people sitting around in there.

Ugh.

Also, I would never let anyone else buy me pants!

Anyway, weigh-in today. Hope it's a good 'un.

Oh and I still need a swimsuit. Dammit.

And just once I'd like to meet a nice little granny who'll knit me a hat and offer me ribbon candy. I know they're out there...I've seen them on TV!

I don't wear green because of my sick-ass pinching fetish.

2010-03-17T05:10:00.000-07:00

Presenting the very first weekly WhatIDidn'tEatThisWeek Collage! Weeeeee... Sure seems like there was a lot more temptation, but I'll be honest, it's not always easy to sneak pictures of food when people offer it to me. I don't wanna be all "well, I really shouldn't eat that, but would you mind me taking a quick photo of you trying to sabotage my diet despite seeing me here eating a plate of lettuce? Oh, you do mind? Oh...okay." PLUS, there's the added weirdness of me thinking that they're assuming I'm taking the picture so I can go home and lick my camera in a weird, yet sexy, way while fantasizing about some orgy of fried foods and frosting. Food porn, indeed. I'll shut up now, so here's this:

Before you ask, that is a big-ass burrito, a pizza, some huge ass nachos, a giant bag of popcorn, cheetos puffs, and yes, that's a BUCKET of french fries. Del Taco considers that to be a 'large', FYI. For the record...all that stuff...didn't eat it. Hooray!

In other news, we really sucked at trivia last night. A whole category was about North Korea...eff that noise. I'm thinking about quitting the trivia team because...

A) I know like 1 answer a week, and it makes me feel dumb.

B) tired of the same ol' drunks.

C) too many snacks!

I dunno, maybe I just need a little break.

I read my blog from like a year ago today and I was talking about green fruits to bring for the St. Patrick's Day Potluck at work. Then tonite I went to buy green fruits. How unoriginal! I guess March is a real diet-y month for me. Hopefully I can stay strong and not have a bunch of cupcakes, as per the age-old Irish tradition of stuffing yourself with cake and then falling asleep in a diabetic heap on the couch after work. Beer ain't my thing, you know?

So have fun but celebrate responsibly, people! This message brought to you by me and the great folks over at Anheiser Busch. Because we care...

If the Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don't eat the tourists.

2010-03-16T05:16:00.000-07:00

When we started the Biggest Loser thing at work, I printed up a Skip A Weigh-In pass and handed one to everyone. Out of the ten people doing the challenge, EIGHT people used theirs yesterday! Dude...that's a lot. The only other person who even bothered weighing in was my boss, who lost 0.2. I can't let this allow me to get cocky! Apparently something happened this weekend that caused 80% of our team to fuck up, but I know that eventually, the person fucking up could be me, so I just need to stay on my damn toes.

On the real, I could sure use the money! I want some of those Step-Up shoes. I know they're not the greatest looking things on earth, but my legs are weak as shit and I need all the help I can get. But they're over a hundred bucks, which isn't something I just have laying around, you know? Damn economy. I shoulda entered Jack's giveaway! But...I think those peeps still woulda won because their comments were all beautifully crafted and mine woulda just been all "SNEAKERS! I need em!" because I am too lazy for all that thinking and proper sentence construction. (As is clearly evidenced by that mother of all run-ons.)

Anywho, that dude showed up for training and he seems all quiet and booooring. I dunno why we can never get any dudes at work that aren't either boring, weird or flat-out batshit crazy. Too much estrogen in Call Centers...I needs me a new line of work.

He's kind of a plump lil fella. I was taking him on the Grand Tour of our super awesome workroom and he spotted the scale from like a mile away. He's all "uhh...what the hell's that about?" Only a true fattie can hunt out a scale like that! I was like "we're doing this weight loss challenge thing..." to which he audibly GROANED. Where's the professionalism?? I assured him that he was too late to join in anyway and he seemed extremely relieved. No skin off my back...I'm perfectly happy with everyone in my life getting exponentially fatter as long as I'm not one of them. I'm already down to like two pairs of pants and I'm too cool for MuuMuus. As the late great multiple Oscar-award winning actress Jennifer Lopez once said..."Enough!"

In other news, check out this dinosaur in a boat!

I am really getting my money's worth of fun out of these dang orange peels every day.

This one old lady at work brought in this crazy ass magazine from 1972 and I was IN LOVE with it. The ads were...amazing. Seriously. I dunno about you guys, but if I had to think of the words for a maxi pad advertisement, I would try to stay away from the word TANGY...oh man, so gross.

And of course, vintage vibrators...TONING THROAT MUSCLES! I died. I am now dead. For reals.
I am going to send my $1 to this company and see how this diet works out for me. It can't be any worse than those Slim Shots, you know?

This post is way long. I'm sorry. But I wanted to add that I tried to make Healthy Chicken Parmesan for dinner tonite and it came out way shitty, as per the usual. I got that whole wheat pasta and man, I dunno what I'm doing wrong, but it was like a solid mass of weird lump on the plate. I couldn't even eat it. The only redeeming factor of the meal was that anytime I make pasta, I get to use my PASTASAURUS RAWRRRR. Here we are looking quite menacing...
Alright, I'm outta here. Have a happy Tuesday. Trivia tonite! More snacks to avoid! Then a potluck at work tomorrow because what St. Patrick's Day would be complete without the pressures of eating a bunch of shit at work. Erin Go...Blah?

Mondays, by the case.

2010-03-15T08:51:00.000-07:00

Hey dudes. I gotta train this new dude soon, so this will be a short one. I had a busy weekend, which is a real rarity for me. I'd like to say that I got some newfound rejuvination from a weekend spent almost entirely off the couch, but in all honesty, I missed my couch!

I got home at 4:30am after a fun but frustrating Saturday night only to be woken up at 9am by a still-slightly-drunk friend who wanted to know why her car wasn't in her driveway. Probably because it was in MY driveway. It was a weird night. Long story short, I would love to find a few pals who don't go out every weekend with the main objective being to remember NOTHING come Monday morning. Not trying to be a prude...it just sucks being the only sober one in a group of beligerant yet loveable drunks.

Either way, despite being stuck for four hungry hours in very close proximity to a Denny's, I did great food-wise. I drank about nine cups of water and bowled for 3 hours. My foot hurts, but I was proud of myself for the first time in a while, so that was nice. I'm not real big on self-assurance so it's a rare and welcomed feeling.

Anyway...weigh-in was this morning. I'm at 394, so that's 4.8 down since last week. Good times...good times. I'd like to see some 380s in the next week or two here, but I guess that's up to me, right? Warp speed ahead, Mr. Spock.

What Would You Say...

2010-03-12T05:12:00.000-08:00

So I found out I have to train some new guy at work next week and it kinda ruined my day. It shouldn't. I mean, I guess I should be happy that they think I'm capable enough at my job to train new people. BUT...I dunno, I guess it makes me feel a little taken advantage of. Training is something that normally only the supervisors do...and it's not like I'm getting any kind of financial gain for doing something that's clearly not in my job description.

PLUS, there's a freeze on raises due to "economic hardships." Look, I get that we are in a shitty recession, and I totally get that times are tough. But they eliminate all these positions and make everyone left work way harder and then they make it impossible to ask for a little extra scratch. And if you bitch about it, they give you the ol' "HEY AT LEAST WE STILL HAVE JOBS!" line.

I'm sure if you've been recently laid off from your job and you're out there looking for a new one every day and getting nothing but doors slammed in your face, you're probably reading that last paragraph and saying to yourself "this greedy bitch..." But I'm just saying, the economy is shit and it's not like anything costs any less than it ever did when times were "good." If you're working hard, I don't think it's out of line to expect your whole extra 40 cents an hour once per year. My raises are always only 40 cents! But still...right about now...I could sure use that forty cents.

Anyway, I'm off my soapbox...FOR NOW. I bought a jicama! Like, a whole one. I usually buy the little container of it at Whole Foods already all chopped up and ready for action. But it's like 5 bucks! And a whole one was like 53 cents, so I thought I could at least try. Even though it was scary and intimidating on the outside, I think I did it okay. I expected it to be a lot harder than it was. I think I actually didn't ruin something I made in my own kitchen for once!

That's a bad-ass plate, huh? Dina sent it to me from her store-of-all-the-weirdest-things-Tricia-will-love-but-could-never-afford. She's a true pal.

If you're wondering what that red stuff is, it's this:

I dunno what's in this shit, but it's like crack sprinkles for fruit and veggies for me. It's like all soury salty spicy yummy and it will kick a cucumber's ass, son. I put it on cukes, apples, corn on the cob and jicama so far. You should try some...they sell it at Wal-Mart, you cheap bastard. But beware for this is not A Candy...

See what I mean? Putting A before Candy makes it sound all foreign to me. Or like Dave Matthews lyrics...

Before I go, I wanted to show off YET ANOTHER awesome gift from Dina. BEHOLD: The coolest measuring cups ever made:

And yes, they do stack into each other. Each half a doll is a different measurement. So in love with them. I have been measuring the shit outta stuff since I got these. Cutest.Ever.Seriously. Although they do kinda make me want pringles...it's the face, i guess.

Normally I would say TGIF, but I'm NOT looking forward to this weekend, so I'll just say HDIF, which stands for Hey Dudes, It's Friday. Enjoy yours, at least!

Get outta my yard!

2010-03-11T05:05:00.000-08:00

Hey, I finally figured out how to upload pictures from my phone to my computer...yay! When I say "figured out", I mean "actually tried, for once." I'm sort of like that about technology. I can tell I'm getting old and stubborn and I don't really wanna understand HOW stuff works anymore, I just want it to work. I wanna stay somewhat current, but not if it involves a lot of learning and reading and shit. I haven't the time! Plus, lazy. Real lazy...

Anywho...here's a few pics of boring things. As you can see, my phone offers the same boringness and awful picture quality as my camera, but now I have two ways to bring that boringness to you, gentle reader.

First off, PROOF that I gave away the Jelly Bellies! Here is Allan, my cubie neighbor, looking like Special Ed while holding the proof! This dude is a nut, for real. He's super Mormon so you give him some sugar and you will be entertained for the afternoon. It's pretty great. The best thing ever is when he goes to buy one of those 5-Hour Energy Shots at lunch because the whole rest of the day is pretty much like a 4-hour acid trip. Good times...

I took this picture as proof that I can't cook for SHIT. I tried to make TJs Baked Oatmeal to have for breakfast this week. It literally called for like 4 ingredients and I still totally fucked it up. By the time I pulled it out of the oven 45 minutes later, it was this rock hard chunk of burniness and well, let's just say this pan has been soaking in my sink of like three days and it's not even TRYING to work with me. I give up!

And finally for my new pal Clyde, the Tony-Soprano-baby-head-orange-peel. I always score my oranges into quarters then peel it because I like having perfect quarters of peel. I don't know why, it's just one of my weird things. So this is a quarter of it. For what it's worth, it was an awesome orange and it really turned my day around. In hindsight, I should have put something next to it for perspective, but...well, I didn't. Just imagine a baby's head next to it and identical in size...thanks.

That's it for now. I'm sure there'll be more because the phone's a lot easier to have on hand than the camera. It's like my workday is bursting off the pages of this blog, people!

Oh yeah, and I think I might do this new weekly blog segment called What I Didn't Eat This Week where I make a collage of all the pictures of crappy (read: yummy) food that people try to force on me on a daily basis. Today it was a giant flan. I don't really even like flan cause the texture is too weird. I don't like...overly creamy (?) things...it's a weird texture for me and my mouth rejects it. Like...refried beans, guacamole, flan, custards...things like that...it activates my gag reflex. Another one of my weird things. Someone start a list!

Finally Thursday...my new favorite day of the week. Have a good one, dudes!

Listen all y'all, it's a sabotaaaaage...

2010-03-10T07:40:00.000-08:00

Trivia last night. We TANKED. It was sad. Some weeks, we're pretty dumb. And even worse, Angel brought like a million snacks. I can't stand to see some skinny person stuffing their face constantly while remaining skinny. I want to see them plump up in front of me like a Ball Park frank, but they just sit there inhaling Cheetos Puffs and staying tiny tiny tiny. When she texted me to make sure I was coming, she said "I've got a surprise for you!" Right away, I knew it was food. AND I WAS RIGHT. Probably one of my favorites too...

...except it was the Kid Mix! Which means it's even greater because there's no annoying black licorice ones to slow down the shoveling. I faked exuberance and hid the bag behind me on the bench. When I left, I stuck the bag in the glove compartment of my car, and today I plan on passing those suckers on to someone else. Preferably some other fattie in the Biggest Loser challenge so I can get the inside edge...

Man, the things a girl's gotta do just to avoid junk food these days.

In other, way shittier, news...I found out from my brother that my Aunt Alice had a stroke a couple nights ago. She's totally paralyzed on her left side and she can't remember her husband and daughter. That is a terrible awful thing and I feel horrible about it. My aunt and I aren't that close. I remember me and my niece Crystal used to have to spend summers there when we were kids and man, hell on earth. Still, she's a good lady and I hope she can recover from this.

From as far back as I can remember, Alice has always been severely overweight. But as far as I know, she's always been in pretty decent health. So while I was surprised and saddened to hear of her condition, it wasn't a total shock. But more than ever, it drives home the message of health. I don't want to have a heart attack. I don't want to have a stroke. I don't want to have to survive some life-altering medical condition to be able to make positive changes in my life. I just wanna do it on my own terms. On a daily basis, I see my body fighting back against the damages already done. I don't need another wake-up call, I'm awake, dammit. Now I just gotta get outta bed...

Sometimes I wish the Snooze button was never invented.

I miss the Sopranos.

2010-03-09T08:06:00.000-08:00

We had our first weigh-in yesterday for the Biggest Loser Challenge at work. I lost 2.8, which is good, but not as great as I was expecting. While most people would look at 2.8 as a respectable loss, it was my first week and I have over 200 pounds to lose, so I have to remember to look at the whole picture as opposed to wanting 2-digit losses like the people on TV. That being said, it definitely wasn't a picture-perfect week, but I don't wanna make excuses. There are at least 3 times that come to mind when I should have eaten better and I know I could have at least done SOME exercise, even if I do still have limited mobility.

Plus, at least now I know the 400.0 last week wasn't a fluke and I am for sure under 400 for now. And hopefully forever. I think I have the right mindset right now. I just hope I can make it last. Don't wanna get cocky because then I fall off my game and I end up back at Day One for the millionth time.

Home life has been stressful due to some rearranging of Jeff's work schedule. I think we just get along better when we're not around each other very much, which is a sad state of affairs when you're talking about your boyfriend. Not really sure how all this is going to pan out, but maybe it won't be as terrible as I'm thinking. I'm not really sure what I'm doing with my life at this point. I think it's easy when you're on a fast track to a cholesterol-related death to lose sight of where you actually wanna go with your life. When things start to fall into place, then you start wondering if the years are worth saving if you're just going to be miserable. Change begets change? Or maybe I'm all talk...who knows.

Man, this a depressing ass post. Does it help if I say I'm eating an orange that's the size of a baby's head? Like a fat James Gandolfini-style baby. A fat, italian baby. Obviously from the Jersey Shore, due to the skin color.

Those Charmin Commercials with the Bears Creep Me Out...

2010-03-03T06:59:00.000-08:00

Man, things have been freaking hectic. Every once in a while, the first of the month will fall on a Monday and in banking, that is a shitty place to be. It's like the Perfect Storm, except it's raining poop. ("Poop is falling from the sky. POOP!") Anywho, things are finally getting back to just regular crappiness so I thought I should post the results from my giveaway, yay! The super-cool-awesome-MS Paint-logo I tried to design to display the winner came out looking like a giant dog turd (which i will admit, was sort of the intention, but I meant a metaphorical dog turd, and it's not the same.) So instead I just pieced together this hastily drawn sign to say CONGRATULATIONS KELLY!

If you don't know Kelly, you should go check her out. She's funny and smart and like one of the best moms ever and she posts rockin' recipes and once she sent me steak sauce and I still use it like all...the...time. Well, not the same bottle, cause it's gone. But they sell it at Wal-Mart is what I'm saying, people. So go there and read her if you don't already and congratulate her for her fibery win and also for RUNNING A MILE AND A HALF+, so awesome! (/fangirl)

Also, I would like to award a small consolation prize to my favorite comment! If you know me, you know I am not normally a fan of poetry as I think it is weepy girl-type stuff and I hate when people search too hard for meaning in stuff and like write an 8-page essay about how some poem was about man's struggle against the environment or something and really it's just about some girl getting her period for the first time (are you there, God? It's me, Tricia.) ANYWAY, I still think creativity and hard work should be rewarded, so here's Tammy's poem in case you missed it!

This fiber-rich haul seriously rocks

It will sweep through any poopage blocks

Soon I'll be flushing and blushing with pride

If only this Shitztatic prize will be mine

So.much.awesome.in those four little lines. More poems should be about poop, poets take note!

Thanks everyone for entering and I'm sure it won't be the last so stay tuned. If you two groovy chicks would kindly send a mailing address to fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com, I will get on that...pronto. Thanks.

In other news, life is throwing me yet another curveball that I'd rather not talk about, but I am TRYING to not let it get to me. I passed up on pecan pancakes last nite, but mostly because we were running late instead of for the right reasons. I angrily ate an orange and then went to bed early.

I'm trying Fiber One Shredded Wheat today. I measured out a cup and poured it into a ziploc bag this morning and looked at it like it was some kinda cruel joke. But now an hour later, i'm still only halfway through the baggie. There's just something about dry, fibery, slightly sweetened, processed wheat squares that's just plain filling, I guess.

Alright, I got work to do. Adios, pals.

Committed Committee.

2010-03-01T09:30:00.000-08:00

So I weighed in for our Biggest Loser Challenge at work today. The scale said 400.0 which I fear might be a fluke. I don't like super round numbers like that because they seem untrue and like the scale is just all WHOA I DONT KNOW JUST SAY 400 SO SHE'LL GET OFF! My scale at home goes to 405 and it kept registering an error so I was thinking I was still above that. Plus, now I'm wearing clothes and these heavy ass shoes and it still says 400. SO...I dunno. If it's right, that's kinda awesome because that means I lost a pretty good amount for last week even though I have no real idea what that amount is because of my home scale being basically useless. If it's wrong, then...well, that would suck. It says it goes up to 440, so...I dunno. I'm just gonna say it's right and be optimistic.

In other news, I went to Jeff's neice's baby shower yesterday and it lasted SIX hours. Who in the hell thought this was a good idea? I was talking to his sister and she said something about their Baby Shower Committee Meetings and I'm all 'what in the world?' Are baby showers the new weddings or something? Six hours of playing weird baby games and having to stand up and give parenting advice and watching someone slowly unwrap what seemed to be about 500 onesies pretty much had me praying for death.

Who am I to give parenting advice? I don't even have kids. I advised them not to encourage the baby to cuss, because even though it's cute and hilarious, it will inevitably say FUCK really loud at a funeral awaiting giant laughs. A few people chuckled but then I got told I wasn't taking it "seriously" probably because I wasn't. It's a baby shower, not a wake. I see now why I have little to no contact with the outside world. Between the Greatful Dead tshirt and ripped jeans and total inexperience on all things baby and baby-like, I'm sure I did not successfully blend in. The only solution: Stop knowing pregnant people.

I pulled a winner for the giveaway, but I tried (unsuccessfully) to make a cool visual to display the name. I FAILED. I have failed thee, oh world of bloggers. I'll try again tonight after work and if it sucks again, I'll just post it in a regular ol' boring way. Nothing ever comes out as good as it is in my head. Inside my mind lies a glorious land of successful craft projects. I want to go to there.

Happy Monday.

Get your eagle on...

2010-02-26T09:18:00.000-08:00

When I went to my orthopedic surgeon a week ago, he told me to get rid of my boot/cast thing and just start wearing a regular tennis shoe. That was pretty great news at the time, but I didn't realize it would still hurt so much just to wear a shoe. That boot was really misleading because it was amazingly painless, so it gave me a false sense of wellness. This size 10 Sketcher doesn't offer up the same confidence.

I guess it's because I have to walk really slow. A glacier-like pace, people. And I've always prided myself on the fact that even though I was a tub, I had a pretty normal walking pace. I could keep up with folks without being all outta breath or gripping my chest, you know? And now I walk all slow and waddly. It's bothersome. I feel like with the boot at least, people could look at me and plainly see that I had a foot injury. But now I just blend in as a fattie who can BARELY walk. I will admit, it's embarrassing and it makes me not wanna go out much. I get judged enough just being this size, I don't need the added mobility problems to make people shake their heads or stare.

One day I'll be able to live my life and not care what people think about me. Until then, I guess I just gotta remember...

Afterall, I'm not doing people any great disservice by merely existing as a fat person, so why do they insist on going out of their way to show their disapproval? They're jerks, that's why.

Anyway, I'm doing the giveaway drawing tonite, so there's still time to enter if you haven't already! I'll post the winners at some point this weekend (possibly Monday morning?). Good luck!

Have a great Friday, guys.

So hot right now...

2010-02-25T12:40:00.000-08:00

My boss talked to me the other day about starting a Biggest Loser Challenge at work. I was pretty excited thinking I need all the motivation I can get. It's supposed to run from March 1 - May 31...14 weeks. Lots of fun stuff in that 14 weeks like...Easter, my birthday, a million potlucks and kiddie birthday parties, and I'm sure lots of other last-minute-lets-go-eat-celebrations. But maybe the added pressure of my boss seeing my WEIGHT on a weekly basis (kill me now) will help me say no to all these excuses for free-for-alls.

I'm a little uneasy about it, to be honest. Of the ten of us participating so far, I've got the most weight to lose, by far. By like a big ass country mile of difference. Everyone else is in the low 200s and I'm in the 400s and that sucks. On the one hand, I'll probably lose more. But since it's done by percentage just like the real show, I would have to lose a lot more just to be in the running. I'm not trying to talk myself out of it...I guess i'm just not thrilled with the idea of anyone in my real life knowing how much I actually weigh.

My boss used to go to Weight Watchers meetings with me. She was all proud to show off her little booklet telling the world she went from 181 to 178 in a week. Me, on the other hand...I hid that thing like it was made of gold and the Nazis were knocking around outside my door. I know it's just a number, but it's a rather large number that I'd rather not be labeled by.

Oh well, I'm only making it worse by dwelling on it. I'll resign myself to it and get over it at some point this weekend so I can show up Monday and act like it's no big deal. Sure, it's big, but the whole point of this thing is to make it smaller...together. So...yeah. Just keep telling myself that.

ANYWAY, is anyone watching American Idol this season? Why has everyone been so terrible so far? And why do half of the guys look like that Justin Beiber kid (AKA DINA'S BOYFRIIIIEND!!!)? The only guy that was even kinda good last nite was the hot blonde dude who TOTALLY LOOKS LIKE HANSEL FROM ZOOLANDER. I mean, twinz.

My guess is that Adam Lambert was just too good last year and now everyone else sucks by comparison. These kids better get better or else I'll have to watch something else...and no one wants that. Especially me. So please get it together. Thanks.

Giveaway winners tomorrow!

EDIT:

2010-02-24T09:27:00.000-08:00

This is what I'm talking about! I just got this in my work inbox:

Like I need reminders. There's food in here, I get it, thanks.

Bussa cap. No court in the world would convict me. Well, if the jury are frequent dieters, at least...

Day 3: A Case of the Wednesdays

2010-02-24T08:26:00.000-08:00

This has been a long-ass week. Maybe it's the absence of afternoon candy bars (and mid-morning candy bars...) that seems to make the days drag on foreverrrrrrr. Still kickin' it though.

Today could be tough. There's a Baby Shower/Birthday potluck thing going on at work. Pizza and cake and lots of other crap I don't need but want want WANT. I didn't contribute because I thought maybe if I didn't bring anything, I wouldn't feel obligated to eat. Or moreso I was hoping the guilt trip would help me say no. It's all smelly in here. Smells like a carnival food court. Man, I need a job where people don't eat. Just me and a bunch of anorexics, that would be TOPS. Then again, I'd just hate them all for being skinny. Damn skinny bitches!

Oh well, I have my boring chili and boring salad and I'll just try to avoid that whole half of the room today if need be. Everyone around here is pregnant. I think there's gonna be like one of these per month for at least the next 3-4 months. People need to stop having babies. It's called population control, people. I'm sorry, I'm lashing out because I want cake. STUPID BABIES AND THE CAKES THEY CREATE.

Last night at trivia, I realized that Jeff's family is a bunch of feeders. Everyone brought like a snack to share. It's only 3 hours! They're already drinking beer, now we have a big pack of Red Vines and a big ol' bag of pretzels, beer nuts and a deep dish pizza! Seriously? It was hard but I just had my Tootsie Roll Pop and four glasses of water. Not saying that a lollipop is the height of nutrition or anything, but it's better than the thickest pizza I've ever freaking seen. Inches from my face, people. Not cool. We got 3rd. Trivia is too hard lately...stresses me out. I miss my British!

It just sucks because everywhere I look, there's shit I shouldn't eat. It's hard to always say no. I realize that I have to say no if I ever plan on losing this weight, but that doesn't make it any easier. I just have to get tough. I'm too lenient and everything seems like a good enough reason to overindulge. Just feels like I'm being punished or something because right now I'm in the shittiest stage of dieting which is like feeling deprived but also having no results to show for it. Eventually there will be results, but patience is not my strong point. Enough sulking...I can do this, remember?

Giveaway still going strong if you're feeling a little backed up lately.

Onward!

Everybody's talking all this stuff about me...

2010-02-23T04:52:00.000-08:00

Since technically we're counting this as Day 1, I thought I should report that I did pretty good. I woke up too late to have breakfast, which was a bummer, but I had an orange, so it's all gravy, baby. Made some rockin' teriyaki chicken kabobs for dinner and they were pretty good considering I made them. I...am not a chef. I'm just like, not good at it. In my head, things always make sense and have layering flavor profiles and all that nonsense. But when I make it, it always ends up black and bloodied. Poor food. It gives its life for me to eat it and I just have no skillz to appreciate it.

Maybe I should take a cooking class or something. Everything costs money though, and I don't have much. Maybe I just learn to live with my shitty cuisine. That sounds affordable.

Are you guys watching Celebrity Fit Club this season? That show is RIDONK. They are forreal taking a lot of liberties with the word "celebrity". I think I've come to the realization that I barely care about this show when Carnie Wilson's crazy ass isn't there. Also, most of the people are NOT fat. I know there's fatter celebrities out there so this show must have the tiniest of budgets. Like, even tiny by VH1 standards. And they're doing a reality show out of a basement this season. So...what the hell?

Here's the cast. How many can you name??

If you can name four, then your taste is eclectic as hell. I'll still watch it though...cause I'll watch anything with Bobby Brown in it. And also because JAY. Second best Project Runway contestant everrrr. (Santino, what what?) I dunno. Nicole Eggert? Seriously? What would Scott Baio say?

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I lost most/all of you with this post, but if you made it this far, I will remind you to enter my Shitz N Gigglez giveaway! Good luck, homies!

Day 2 comin' up...I can do this :)

SnGz

2010-02-22T05:00:00.000-08:00

Hear ye hear ye! Let it be known that there is free stuff to be had simply by reading this blog today. Go forward and tell thine blogging community:

Here's two life lessons I've found to be exceedingly true in my almost 32 years of life:
1. Laughter is the best medicine.
2. Everybody poops.

They may not be the most profound lessons, but they are effective and honest. If you can't laugh at yourself and the people you love, then you are destined to be one pissed off person for most of your unfunny life. And if you're having problems with #2 (pun very much intended), well, you probably need more fiber.

It is with those two simple points in mind that I present to you my second ever Blog Giveaway! Just in time for its first birthday! Without further ado, feast your eyes on...

The Shitz n Gigglez Giveaway!

This is possibly one of the top five most fibery blog giveaways...ever.

Before I list the loots, I feel I must say that it's not like I'm trumpeting Lisa Lampanelli as some dieting guru. I'm only saying that as a fat girl with a lot of self-esteem issues, I felt a lot of echoed sentiment in this book hidden among the fat jokes and stories of banging black dudes. MAYBE that's not your style, in which case, MAYBE you don't wanna enter, and hey, I'm okay with that. But she went to Fat Rehab! So...just saying, maybe she's an unlikely motivator, but a motivator all the same. Yeah.

So anyway, here's what you get: (counter clockwise from top left...)

1. The book: Lisa Lampanelli - Chocolate, Please: My Adventures in Food, Fat and Freaks. (this is the gigglez part, see?)

2. Fit and Fresh Fruit and Veggie Bowl: Comes with a cool little ice ring thingy and compartments for 3 fruits/veggies and one dip with a cover. Fruit and veggies are the BESTEST way to get in that fiber. I have one of these, and well, it rules.

3. Quaker Weight Control Instant Oatmeal (Variety Pack) - 6g fiber per serving!

4. Fiber One Complete Pancake Mix - 5g fiber per serving!

5. Progresso High Fiber Chicken Tuscany Soup - 7g fiber per serving!

6. Fiber One 90 Calorie Chewy Bars (chocolate peanut butter flavor) - 5g fiber per serving!

7. Jolly Time 100 calorie Healthy Pop Popcorn (butter flavor) - 9g fiber per serving!

8. Emerald 100 Calorie Cocoa Roast Almonds - 2g fiber per serving!

9. Fiber One Blueberry Muffin Mix - 5g fiber per serving! (don't forget to use the Hungry Girl recipe to lower the calories and add even more fiber with pumpkin!)

There's some more small stuff but I forgot to take pictures of it and who doesn't like surprises?? It's just like gum and a card or something, I think? Anyway...

So you guys know the drill when it comes to these giveaways...here's how to enter:
1. Leave me a comment telling me YOUR favorite fibery food. If you don't have one, then just make something up!
2. Link to my blog from YOUR blog telling the masses about this giveaway! (then leave me another comment here saying you did it. I'm no psychic!)
3. Post a picture of your proudest poop. Or don't. I'm not the boss of you.
4. TWO ENTRIES if your comment is a poo-inspired joke!

That's it. Stock up on Charmin and hang tight. I'll draw the winner on um...Friday-ish? That sounds good.

Have a great Monday, guys!

365 Semi-Good Excuses.

2010-02-20T22:02:00.000-08:00

First thing's first: Happy birthday to my blog! It was a whole year ago today that I made the switcheroo from Freewebs to Blogger. It's probably the only decision I made in the last year that came with NO regrets! A lot has been blogged over the last 365...let's take a moment to reminisce, shall we?

Am I having a stroke? Because my life is flashing before my eyes (and I smell burning hair...) Ah, those were some kinda good times. A lot has changed in just one small year. Some good stuff, some bad stuff and I now have metal in my foot. I tell you one thing that DIDN'T change though, and that's my weight. Bummer! I thought for sure I'd have made a significant dent in that 410er I started out with. Yet here she sits...typing...elipses. Oh well, no use crying over spilled buttercream frosting. Lick it up and let's move on...

To year two! Project Y2Trish starts today! Well, actually it started like a week ago, but for continuity's sake, let's just say today. You can play along at home too! Alls you gotta do is change the "Trish" part into your own name! Unless your name is Trish, in which case, skip that step and just move on to Phase 2.

The plan:

Phase 1: Create a name. DONE!

Phase 2: Little to No Cake (after Blog Birthday Cake. Kiddingggggg.)

Phase 3: Stop whining about your RoboFoot and go back to Physical Therapy.

Phase 4: Eat less. A lot less. And better stuff too!

Phase 5: When you can walk again, do some of that.

Phase 6: Lose weight.

Phase 7: Don't give up IF you don't lose enough.

Phase 8: Stop your goddamn crying and lose some weight!

Phase 9: Get some jeans that fit.

Phase 10: Get some more jeans that are a smaller size and then make them fit too. Repeat until at goal weight.

Sounds pretty simple, right? Come on, you guyz, we can DO ITTTTTT! I already made turkey/veggie chili today so like, this week is pretty much on LOCK, son. I can't really weigh-in because trying to stand still on the scale with this foot is kinda impossible. I'll do it when I can though. Then we'll start making like charts and shit and make this all scientific and whatnot. Some Next Generation type shit, if you will.

Alright, I'm only gonna say this once: I'm giving you people permission to be hard on me. If you see me blog-whining about whatever and saying how I failed AGAIN and posting pictures of bad things I ate, YOU HAVE PERMISSION to give me that "tough love" shit that I HATE HATE HATE. I need help. There, I said it.

That being said, I also need to get back into therapy. Hopefully with someone who isn't some psycho drill sargent who thinks that if she sighs and talks louder, it'll get into my head somehow. If any of you are in the Vegas area and know a good therapist who deals with eating disorders and a WHOLE handful of other miscellaneous issues, I would gladly take a referral.

K guys...year 2 will be better. More blogging, less pounds.

P.S. Come back tomorrow for my Bloggy Birthday Giveaway! Don't forget!

Beanpies.

2010-02-12T09:47:00.000-08:00

It's Valentine's Day here at the ol' cubicle farm today which means lots of scary treats to try to avoid. I had a bagel. That's not so bad even if it is extra-carby. At least it doesn't have frosting. I have an ever-growing pile of candy building up as people pass by my desk this morning. So far nothing I can't live without....whew. Those chalky hearts and lots of lollipops. My new principle of "don't eat it just because it's there" will serve me well today.

Before I leave, I wanted to pass along the most baller-ass valentine ever invented to each of you. Heed its lesson well and have a great Valentine's Day, guyz. :)

Your dad and I had a Moon Landing in the locker room.

2010-02-11T15:40:00.000-08:00

As you may or may not remember, I got a new phone a few months ago. It's a MyTouch with Google. I pretty much walked in to T-Mobile and reached for the first thing that said the word Google and plunked down a cool two hundred bones and left with it. Still reeling over not being able to get one at Wal-Mart for like 1/10th of the price, I decided to be pissed at the phone. It didn't last. I can't stay mad at you, baby. With your maroonish hue and ability to allow me access to FaceBook in any bathroom in the world, you made me love you. (I didn't wanna do it...)

Since that fateful day, I've become something I always hated: a phone addict. It's ALWAYS on me. Be it pocket or bra, it's always ON MY PERSON (hate that saying, btw). I'm constantly fucking with it, checking email, facebook, twitter...pretty much doing everything except calling people...(how primitive!) I'm that person vaguely listening to your story at lunch time while I FaceBook how "OMG, my co-worker is boring me to DEATH!" What an asshole.

It didn't take long for Jeff to realize that I was paying even LESS attention to his stories as usual and see that this phone is pushing a rather large wedge in our "relationship." Rather than remedy it, we decided he needed a new phone too. Two new phones means two new data plans, plus insurance on said expensive new phones. Which means our cell phone bill went from "whoa" to "LIKE WHOA MAN WTF!"

As a result, I had to give up my beloved UNLIMITED TEXTS for a lowly 400. (One for each pound?) It's hard! I finally have a phone where you don't have to hit a button 4 times to make a capital "S" and now I have these crippling limitations! It's gotten to a point where I judgementally read each text I get and think to myself "what a waste!" The worst is when someone sends a series of tiny texts that could have been like, one sentence if they weren't just hitting SEND with such reckless abandon.

Here's the thing: I think I lost a friend today. It started innocently enough at 11:16am with the text "What kind of frosting did Jeff's cake have? It's now my life goal to make that cake!" I replied back "cream cheese frosting" and thought it was done! I went to lunch and came back to 31 missed texts! Ranging from "do you think i should omit the chocolate chips?" to "okay, i'm putting it innnnnnnnn" followed 25 minutes later by "i'm taking it outtttttttttt!!" Dude. I love cake. If you know me, you know my love of cake. And if I'm being totally serious, there's little more than I'd love to do all day than to get status updates of people's various cake-making efforts...BUT...not by text, dammit!

I checked my balance and realized I have 97 texts left to last the remaining 17 days of this month! I decided to be proactive and delicately tell her to chillax on the updates. "hey man, i'm not trying to be a bitch, but i'm on limited texts. why not email me a storyline?? :)" I thought it was cute and a good alternative to saying "DUDE CUT THE SHIT!", but alas, now she's all pissed and hurt. People are too sensitive these days! It's not like you're updating me on your impending labor and delivery...it's a cake. And for ME of all people to downplay a cake, you know it's excessive.

It's horrible timing on my part because she's semi-dating the British dude from trivia and I am living vicariously through her and I need the DEEEEEEETS. Damn, I really shot myself in my foot this time. I guess the moral of this story is that it's worth the extra ten bucks a month (being added to an already rape-like amount) just to not be deemed the text nazi. Now I'll never know what it's like to kiss those tight thin british lips. Le sigh.

(No segue...)

Anyway, it's almost my blogiversary! Only a few more weeks. I'm planning a giveaway, but I will warn you now that it's not for the faint of heart. Or anyone who can't take a joke (scram!) OR anyone who hates the word shit. No asterisks allowed!

Hope you dudes are doing fine. This was like the Seinfeld of updates. Because it's about nothing, not because it's funny. I'll try harder soon.

P.S. My new favorite show is called Modern Family and if you're not already watching it, please do so you will understand what will probably be a series of Blog Titles for me. Thanks! <3

Does he LOOK like a BITCH?

2010-02-08T15:20:00.000-08:00

Man, I am having a heck of a time getting any work done today. My brain's all crazy-times and IIIIIIII don't wanna work, I just wanna bang on this drum all dayyyyy and whatnot. Prolly cause I'm all hopped up on just about every OTC sinus medication available at walgreens AND...a big ol' antibiotic. That sucker is big. It's the cadillac of antibiotics, if such a thing were to actually exist.

You guys watch the SuperBowl last night? They should rename it the SuperDoritosandBudLightCommercialathon. Made me kinda miss those frogs. Remember those? That shit was big...there were t-shirts. I've said too much.

I noticed via several commercials that Denny's is bringing back the free Grand Slam for your birthday. Man, oh man, there is nothing I love more than getting something for nothing. Even if it's something I don't really want. Like a grand slam, for instance. It's still nice of them to offer, and what am I? Too good for a handout? Certainly not during these times of economic turmoil.

But I like birthday surprises! And Denny's is like that friend that buys your birthday gift months in advance and then gets all excited and can't stop dropping hints at what it is every time you see them but then you still have to act all surprised when you open it like "Whoa, a toaster! How'd you know??" I'm not that great of an actor, Denny's. Then like every time I pass by, Denny's is gonna be all "HEY IS IT YOUR BIRTHDAY??" and I'm gonna be like "No, not for another couple months, D." Then it's gonna be all "well...I can't wait for you to get your present! I think you're gonna love it! Hey, you still like eggs, doncha??" And I don't have the heart to say that I really don't like eggs that much and I think Denny's breakfast kinda sucks and I wish it was a free SuperBird instead. No eggs on that thing. I dunno...back off, Denny's.

Anyway, tonite is Jeff's birthday party and we're going to a place where I DO actually like the food and there's not an egg in sight. Nothing but the finest hot wings and pizza and homemade chips. But I'm sick. So aside from the fact that I am morbidly obese, another good reason not to splurge tonite is that everything pretty much tastes like snot. I don't have to eat a bunch of it just because it's there. Especially when I can't even taste it. So chillax, have a wing or two, then just enjoy the company, then go home. I feel like Vincent Vega trying to convince myself not to fuck Marsellis Wallace's wife right now. Hope she doesn't OD on the couch while I'm in here talking to myself...

This is crazy. I love you all.

A New Hope.

2010-01-27T09:32:00.000-08:00

First thing's first, I wanna say a big ol' wet sloppy happy birthday to my bestest pal Dina! I feel like I've known her my whole life, even though it's really been less than a year. Without getting all lezzy here, I'll just say that it's nice to have someone I can confide in with ALLLLL my dirt, who understands and doesn't try to make me feel like the worst person on Earth. We've both gone through some pretty shitty stuff (especially lately) and it really makes me appreciate having a true blue friend who will listen to me curse for an hour on the phone when necessary. Happy birthday, pal. Enjoy the booze.

Moving on...I went to the doctor again yesterday. They finally gave me the stupid boot, but it came with bad news in the form of six weeks of physical therapy. Grr. He told me still not to walk on it until the PT gives me the all clear, so that sucks. I'm all scooted out, dudes.

In hindsight, I dunno what I was expecting. I haven't really put any weight on my foot in like almost two months now and I was just thinking they were gonna gimme the boot and I was gonna go all Lady Gaga and I'M A FREE BITCH out the door and shit. Not so much, apparently. So I still have at least six more weeks of bullshit before it looks like I can finally put this whole ordeal behind me.

After the dr, I decided it was time to stop putting it off and go get some groceries so I can stop having an excuse to eat fast food every nite. We went to Sam's and I braved my long-time greatest fear The Motorized Cart in order to get shit handled. Those carts are awful. They could be sleeker, I'll say that. A fat person that beeps in reverse...it's like a Carlos Mencia joke waiting to happen...again. (that's funny cause he's a joke stealer...try to keep up, people.)

I got a lot of shitty looks. I mean, I get that I'm fat and in a cart but can you not see this giant Moon Boot on my foot over here or WHAT? It makes me wanna carry around a giant blinking red arrow that points to my foot so they can be like "ohhhh, okay, so she's NOT just being a lazy fatass...ok, my bad." People and their goddamn judgemental faces.

Plus my cart was all full of healthy shit, so gimme a break! Man, I hate people.

You guys, I have been going through some crazy shit lately. Not even including the whole foot thing, my whole life basically fell apart then somehow magically glued itself back together in like the last six days. A rollercoaster of emotion, to say the least. One thing to come out of it though is some weird fixation on hope for the future and like a truckload of motivation. I would like to run with it and make my life great, so I'm going to try that. I feel strangely happy most of the day for the first time in what seems like...well, ever...and I dunno...maybe I'm fooling myself, but if I am, I would like to at least ride this wave of foolishness to a way smaller pant size.

Wish me luck?

Bye dudez.

Smells like caramel.

2010-01-19T15:27:00.000-08:00

Man, being on a diet while being stuck in bed most of the day SUCKS. Alls I do is lay there thinking about where the hidden food in my house is. That Snickers in the liquor cabinet. That chocolate orange I bought for Jeff that's still in his stocking still hanging on the living room wall because we don't have a chimney. That bag of dark chocolate Doves that I bought in Halloween Clearance and stuck in the freezer by justifying to myself that "if you only eat one a day, that's not so bad!" Yeah right.

Food hoarding came to me honestly since my mom was a mega superstar at it. As a fat little tyke, all I had to do was ram my stubby little hand down into the bottom of my mom's giant purse to hit a sugary payload. At the very least, there would be the "emergency" roll of lifesavers that was meant to save her life in case her blood sugar went too low. But to me, it just meant mom always had candy. Her stash of Whitmans or chocolate-covered cherries in her closet...her bag of cherry sours in her sock drawer...or even the chick-o-stick hiding in the recliner side pocket. This habit certainly didn't start with me...NOT that it's any excuse. My mom isn't exactly the person I wanna model my healthy habits after. I sure do love her, but healthy, she was not.

I was talking to Dina (remember her??) the other day about how my job offers 28 days of in-house rehabilitation if necessary. If only I could afford to take 28 days off! Taking off 3 weeks for my foot nearly made me homeless, so adding a month to it isn't really an option. I'm only now getting to the stage in my life where I realize my struggles with food are more than just "hey, I like food, lay off!" It IS an addiction. No normal person lays in bed wondering if it's worth limping 40 steps on a broken foot to steal someone else's christmas chocolate.

Still, I struggle with the notion. It makes me feel weak. Hi, my name is Tricia and I really like cake. No, I mean really. (Altogether now: HI TRICIA.)

I always thought I could turn it off. I remember a specific incident from my childhood pretty vividly when I think about how far I let myself go. My mom and I were at KFC (shocker) on a Sunday morning after church. A rather large lady walked in and started ordering food. I remember staring at her, which now I realize was a shitty thing to do, but at the time I think I was just summing it up. My mom must have seen me staring because when I got back to the table, she said "that could be you one day, you know?" Pfft. I very matter-of-factly told her, through the wisdom of all my eight years on earth so far, that i would NEVER let it get that far, and that I had every intention of getting thin as a teenager like my sisters did. Here I sit probably a good 50 pounds heavier than that lady was that day and wondering why even the torture of a fat adolescence was never enough to make me stop.

I know it's easy when you're doing well to say "Just do it. Stop whining and just do it." I say it myself when I'm reading blogs while I'm tearing ass. I don't know why that little switch in my brain hasn't flipped yet. The one that says "hey, do you wanna die today? If not, then let's do this..." Maybe it's buried under a pile of Almond Joys or something.

I wish it would just fucking flip already. But like my dad always says, "wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one gets full faster." In case you're wondering, it's the shit hand. All my good intentions are the shittiest diet ever so I guess I should just figure out what I'm gonna do and fucking do it.

I ate a Twix bar as I wrote this post...can you smell the hypocrisy? Also, that chocolate orange didn't stand a chance.

P.S. If you're gonna comment, don't try to go all tough-love on me. It only reminds me of my dad and makes me kinda hate you. I can hate myself enough for both of us, thank you very kindly.

Just outta curiosity...

2010-01-11T16:06:00.000-08:00

Where in the world is Chuck?? I haven't seen that dude in forever. I miss his rubbery aroma.

Big Trish...

2010-01-06T22:32:00.000-08:00

If you know me at all, you know I'm not much of a reader. I guess I figure why read when I'm already paying so much for cable TV and internet? Also, books are expensive and getting a library card in this town is a ridiculous hassle. Plus, libraries are for squares.

I have a lazy brain. It wasn't always like this. When i was just a tot, I couldn't wait to soak up all that fancy book learnin' and get my knowledge on. Then around high school time, I made some friends and my brain slowly morphed into a lazy lump. Good thing I got in a fair amount during those first 13 years because I still know enough to get by. My therapist told me I have ADHD but like every freaking person I know with a therapist says they have ADHD so I still think it's a myth fabricated by shrinks to make lazy people be okay with themselves so they'll keep shelling out the clams for the feel-good excuses.

Wait, i had a point I was trying to make here...dang ADHD. Anywho, oh yeah, I mostly only like two kinda books:

-Books written by stand-up comics

-Books written by Chuck Palahniuk

My brain don't wanna deal with no one else's drivel. I can read blogs all day long but there's just something about all those words and pages all stacked up against me that makes me mostly hate books. Short attention span, no doubt due to my ADHD.

The last 5 books I've read, in order...are:

5. Rant - Chuck Palahniuk

4. Private Parts - Howard Stern (counts as a standup...and this was a re-read because Jeff left it in the bathroom.)

3. Choke - Chuck Palahniuk (re-read after I watched the movie...)

2. Too Fat to Fish - Artie Lange

and the book I'm reading now: 1. Chocolate, Please - Lisa Lampinelli.

I bought the LL book because I was tired of all the music on my iPod so I wanted something to read on the plane ride to Texas. I paid RETAIL ($24.99) for the dang thing which pretty much goes against all my rules as a raging cheapskate. Somehow, airports stupify me into spending a lot of money on shit. A $6 latte and my $25 book before i even got to the security gate!

I like Lisa Lampinelli okay, and I do agree with the fact that for some reason black dudes really do love fat white girls. I just know, okay? I thought it would be a comical little read about sex and cake and whatnot, so I was down. But then I'm reading and I'm like learning shit from it. It upset my lazy brain to be laughing one minute then having to think about shit the next. Dammit!

Turns out her fatness is a lot like my fatness. Never really into the drugs or alcohol, but the food beast plagued he all through life, just like me. Then I read this paragraph...

Logging on to my computer that night before lights-out, i noticed an email from an acquaintance with the somber subject line "Frank D'Amico died June 1st." I quickly opened the email and read that Frank - big Frank - had died in LA the day before. You remember Big Frank - the four-hundred pound guy from the beginning of the book , the one who was connected to a fork? reading about his death, the jokes weren't quite as funny anymore. The only thing I could think about as I finished reading the email were katy's words from the meeting earlier that night: "You are not JUST an overeater...You DESERVE to be here and to help yourself...you'll be dead in five years. But either way, the result is death."

For Frank, the ex-boyfriend with whom I had the greatest times and still have the fondest memories, his "five years" were up. Frank had died from complications from diabetes, a disease he fought most of his adult life. He would be missed by hundreds of people who loved his quick wit, phenomenal storytelling ability and good heart. But the point wouldn't be missed by me. This was a sign. I DID deserve to work on myself, and I would...

I started thinking about my own "five years." I've been lazily taking care of my own diabetes for at least the last five years. I take my insulin but what good is it when I still eat like shit and continue to let the numbers run wild. I don't wanna be the somber lesson that makes my friends get their life in check. I wanna get my own damn life in check.

I made my three-store grocery list tonight and Jeff reluctantly agreed to take care of it. I won't be the next Big Frank. Best $24.99 I ever spent.

You want some cheese with that whine?

2010-01-05T20:42:00.000-08:00

Two posts in one day? i dunno what you guys did to deserve this, but you best start repenting before I'm forced to blog again.

So...I'm bummed. I thought the dr was going to rid me of my need for a gimp scooter by giving me that walking boot thing. One torture device to another, but a downgrade, for sure. Alas, he gave me three more weeks of being a crip, much to my shagrin. It's not his fault, he just wants me to heal properly before I start putting 400 pounds of mass on my poor size 10. And he probably didn't deserve the elementary-style tantrum that I made him endure. I guess it's hard for me to be respectful to him because even though he's a surgeon, he's like 12. Well, he looks like he is. Plus he looks like Kumar. So he's talking to me about bones and cartilage and whatnot and in my head, I'm all "mmm, white castle...." It's not that cool.

I dunno, I just wanted my damn boot. Up with Boots, Down with Scoots!So here's the story of the airport. It was already a real miserable day. My nephew told me he didn't have to be at school until 9:30 so he went to have breakfast with me and my sisters. Turns out school started at like 7:something and the teacher had already called my brother and SIL looking for my missing nephew. My brother and my sisters are like sworn mortal enemies so when I saw his truck whip into the parking lot, I already knew some bad shit was about to go down. He came in and grabbed the kid without talking to anyone and took off. He spent the rest of the day ignoring me TO THE EXTREME. Wouldn't answer my calls and then he like drove off when I went to his job. He made it out to be some deep plot about how I stole the kid so my sisters could see them, which is so not what happened. But either way, it meant I was on my own to find a ride to the airport.

Nothing strikes fear into my dad's heart like saying "They're gonna stop showing Gunsmoke on Encore: Westerns, dad." OR "Hey dad, i need you to take me to the airport." I mean, it was like i was asking for his one good kidney. He finally manned up and decided he could do it. So we get there and I get outta the truck and I'm trying to arrange my suitcases in such a way that I can actually carry them and I feel something giant nudging against my ass. This is when i turn around and see that my own father is hitting me with his goddamn truck. Totally oblivious too.

I try to get the eff outta the way so I don't get a tire running up my asscrack...but being fat, and admittedly, a little slow, my foot didn't make it out in time and he rolled over it. So because i missed my next step due to a truck being on my foot, I also fell down...hard. I mean, I slammed into the fucking ground. Hard enough to knock the air out of me. So I try to get up and I make it to my knees before i realize what the hell really just happened. It's around this time my dad finally stops and gets out to see what all the hubbub is aboot.

He didn't even know he did it! He thought i just fell...(yet another fall to add to that previous post). He's all "Tricia! What are you doing??" All I can do is stare daggers and try to catch my breath. This car full of people saw the whole thing transpire and came over to help me. This one lady's like "YOU JUST RAN OVER THIS GIRL, SHOULD YOU EVEN BE DRIVING??" Internally I chuckle but I'm in pain, people! So I was like "...that's my dad." Which she then "oh...gosh"ed. Man, this coulda been my big payoff but it had to be my broke ass dad behind the wheel. :P

Anyway, everyone tried to get me to stay and go to the emergency room, but I was all EFFFFFF THAT. I didn't wanna spend even one more shitty minute in this town and i just wanted to get home where no one thinks I kidnapped their kid and no dads are trying to run me over. THEN my flight got delayed, of course.

Seven hours later, we land in vegas and my foot is like...dead. I had to get the wheelchair people to come get me because I couldn't even walk up the ramp from the airplane by this time. It was all "Um, my dad ran over my foot, can i get a wheelchair please?" Sigh. Then they send like the OLDEST lady alive to come wheel my fat ass around. I see her approaching me with a wheelchair and it looked like she needed to be IN it, not using it to push around some fattie with a hurt paw. It was like my destiny to be tortured by geriatrics that day because she had to call for "backup". Mortified. Seriously.

Finally some other old lady shows up and they combine their elderly forces to heft me up the ramp. I can honestly say that being wheeled through a crowded airport in a too-small wheelchair being navigated by the Elderly Coalition was NOT my finest hour, but I was still appreciative for the ride. I gave them ten bucks each for the lift, because i figured that might cover all the Icy Hot they'd need to be able to get to sleep that night. Then again, maybe i should have gone for 20 each.

Jeff finally gets me to an ER and I have to explain the story to like the 50th person that nite. They give me a splint and some Lortabs and I call my boss to say "guess what? I'm not gonna be around for a while." That went over real well at 3am on a Wednesday morning, but what could I do?

I had surgery about 3 weeks ago and now here we are, just me, my scooter, and lots of Advils.

Figures I would be gone for like MONTHS then come back and spend the whole time whining about my foot. You guys know I have a super low pain tolerance so i'm pretty sure everyone in my life just wishes I would STFU about it already, but this foot was made for whinin', and that's just what I'll do. Y'know?

Oh yeah, here's my gross foot.

It was way grosser today because it was all bright pink and swollen. Sucks, man. I used to pride myself on the fact that at least my feet weren't that fat, and now it's all swollen and gross. The doctor said it should go down some, but that it'll always be "a little fatter" (<---his words) because of the plate and screws and junk in it. Personally I don't think that makes sense, so as soon as this is all done with, I'm going on a fucking foot diet.

That's it for now. Sorry so long, but it is lonely being stuck in my room all night while Jeff watches gay porn on the HDTV in the living room. At least Biggest Loser starts tonite, weeeeee.

Alright, talk to ya later. Hope you're all doing well. Say hi, I miss you guys!

Fancy seeing you here...

2010-01-05T13:00:00.000-08:00

Well hello there.

I'm at work, but I have to leave in about an hour to get a line of stitches taken out of my foot. Which is broken. Because it got run over. By my dad. At the airport.

To say that it was the shittiest vacation ever would be like saying I have "a little bit of a weight problem."

Speaking of weight, I did finally get well into the 390s before I left for vacation exactly one month ago from today. Pretty sure it's gone back up though seeing as how literally every meal I've had for the last 30 days has come courtesy of a greasy brown paper bag. You can only eat so many grilled chicken sandwiches before you give up on even trying to be healthy. For three days, I tried eating only grapefruits. Not to diet, just because they were the only thing I wanted. My stomach didn't agree.

It sucks and I'm miserable and my pants are tight which makes me more miserable. And I still can't put weight on the foot. I always knew I was like one significant injury away from starring in my own Discovery Health Channel documentary, so I guess I'm lucky it was just the foot because it could have been WAY worse. Still, 400 pounds and crutches do not mix. That lasted about 40 seconds before I was like "um, look, I can't do this. I'm too big and I have no upper body strength so what are my options?" Turns out my option was this crazy ass gimp scooter called a knee walker. It's super embarrassing and needless to say, I don't try to go anywhere I'm not forced to be with this thing. Even getting from my apartment to my car leaves me all exhausted and outta breath. My advice is to not get a leg/foot injury while being severely out of shape.

So obviously this should be motivating me to really get my health in check. And mentally, it is. But in the actual living breathing sense of life kinda way, I'm too full of excuses right now to get it going. I can't walk or exercise, so that's out. I can't stand long enough to cook up something healthy. And trying to explain to Jeff that our weekly groceries come from three different grocery stores is a lesson in futility. It's a bummer because even the simplest things take forever to do (um, showering...) and everything leaves me super tired. It's annoying, for sure.

Anyway, hmm. I'm gonna try to start blogging regularly again, at least. I honestly don't get to the computer much, and it's too hard to blog on my phone because of fatso fingers double-keying everything. I do have some pictures from home and one of my GROSS Frankenfoot (which you already saw if you follow me on FaceBook, hint hint.), so I'll try to get those posted sometime this week. I miss you guys and it's encouraging reading about everyone getting it into gear for the new year and all. Still can't comment most of your blogs from work, don't know why, but I'm reading, so that's something.

Okay, time to get de-stitchified. Hope it doesn't hurt too much! Adios.

I got a new phone too!

2009-11-07T13:16:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-02T23:24:00.001-08:00

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...

2009-10-27T00:03:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-10-13T10:50:00.000-07:00

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?