All Up In Muh Grilllll...

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...

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.

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!

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...

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.

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.

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...