Pity-fool.

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.

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.

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!

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!

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...

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...

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...