Thursday, October 30, 2008

Mystery Man

I met someone recently. He's funny, smart and nice. He makes me laugh more than I ever thought was possible.
And he's about 200 lbs overweight.

He doesn't know my history.

I sit with him, and laugh until my sides hurt.
He won't eat in front of me.
He waits until I leave, hoping that I won't notice. I pretend not to notice that he's not eating.

I notice.

I smile at him, but notice the look in his eyes.
I remember that look. That dull and sad look.
I remember that look in my eyes.

I hope he's not ashamed.
Like I was.
I hope he's not uncomfortable.
Like I was.
I hope he thinks everything is fine.
Like I prayed it was.

But I know better.

I wish I could tell him that that it'll get better. I wish I can tell him that someone believes in him. I wish I can tell him that he has not failed. I wish I could tell him that he is wonderful just the way he is.

But I'm not sure how.

I try to tell him this.........in my smile.





But, it's really not enough, is it?
I feel cheap and cheated. I feel like I let him down.


This f'ng sucks.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Flashback to Failed Diet-Jaw Wiring

Raise your hand if you had your jaw wired shut.

**raises hand**








What? I'm the only one? I'm the only one stupid enough to do this? And, BTW, I totally blame this one on Tami from The Real World (Season one) for giving me the idea.
Bitch.
Mr. Hummingbird was leaving on a business trip for two weeks, so naturally I made an appointment for when he was gone.

After several dozen phone calls, (this was before the Internet was useful) I found a dental clinic that would do it. Cost of the procedure? $275


Okay, let's start by discussing the fact that when you get your jaw wired shut for dietary reasons, they actually do not use wire. They are more like BIG GIANT STAPLES. The "dentist" (yeah, those quotes are not accidents) anchors one end of the staple to a space between your teeth on the top teeth, and the other point to the bottom teeth. Now, I know that usually I survive this type of trauma by being ignorant (ignorance is bliss) about the whole thing, until the moment where my stomach does a flip and my conscience finally says to me, "Hey, maybe this isn't such a good idea after all?" But this time around, I did do a little research.

Was I fearful for my health?

Was I concern for my mental attitude?

No, I didn't want to mess up my pretty teeth. (Yup, I'm that vain. Plus, you can buy a small compact car for the money that my parents spent on my teeth.)

So, I was assured that the procedure was quick, painless, and easy.

F'ng liars.

I drove down to a not-so-nice-area of Los Angeles. I was told to bring cash only. (Yeah, I know. That should have been my first clue.) The plan is that I will have my jaw stapled shut for 14 days. I hope to lose at least 25 lbs. while on a total liquid diet. The actual procedure only takes 20 mins. and I can control any slight soreness with Ibuprofen. (crushed up and sipped through a straw, naturally)

The stapling was pretty quick. I had a slight headache, and my jaw felt sore. Since I have pretty teeth, I had to move my jaw in an unnatural position, in order to have a space for my drinking straw to fit into. Sounds great, huh?

Well, the first problem I had was that now my jaw was wired kindof crookedly. So, because I had some Xylocaine, I was now drooling. (okay, I drool often, but this time it was actually going out of my mouth and down my chin. Very attractive.) Second problem? Well, this is the part that noone told me about. But since you cannot open your mouth to eat, well, you also cannot open your mouth to get a toothbrush in there! By the third day, I swear I felt like I had a dead animal in my mouth. No amount of mouthwash or water piking helped. It was nasty! And, my pearly whites were now covered in a weird scum. Third problem? I kept forgetting that I couldn't open my mouth. Each time I tried to speak, the staples would pull on my gums. Eventually they started to bleed. I was really, really worried about getting an infection because of the whole dirty scummy mouth of mine.

My eating plan was to sip protein drinks. This plan died quickly because of the milk protein in the shakes. (Imagine a sippy cup full of milk...after a few hours under the couch. Remember that smell?? That was what my mouth smelled like.) I stuck to broths and even managed to squeeze a few small noodles in between my askewed teeth. After a while, the roof of my mouth was hurting from all the straw sucking. Yeah, I was really miserable.

I sucked down ibuprofen after ibuprofen. (which, BTW, is just plain nasty once you crush them) I couldn't sleep at night, because my face was so sore. When I did fall asleep, I started moving my jaw so I would wake up with a mouthful of bleeding gums.

Nice.

I lasted only 8 days. I couldn't take it anymore. Not so much the "not eating" part, but the "being miserable and smelly" part.


Days on the diet: 8 days
Lbs lost: 10 lbs!
# of days the lbs stayed off: about 14 days
Cost of diet: $275 and my dignity

Cough Drop Diet

Cough Drops.
Yeah, that's pretty desperate. The science behind this wonderful diet is that if you suck on a cough drop whenever you have the craving to, you know, eat anything. The disturbing menthol taste is suppose to cure you from eating. The rest of this "diet" is sensible breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
I bought a bag of the most medicinal looking cough drops. Each time I had a craving, I sucked on the cough drop.
It worked.
Pretty soon, I was sucking on another.
Pretty soon, I was chewing on them.
One after the other.
I ran out of them, before lunchtime.
My throat was numb.
My teeth hurt.
And I had a sugar rush.
I figure I ate about 30 cough drops. (each one was 15 calories) All in all, I ate an extra 450 calories that day. (450 calories is a pretty large lunch, for those of you that don't know)

Days on the diet: 1/2 day
Lbs lost: zero (possibly gained 1/4 lb)
Cost of diet: about $6 for the cough drops.

It sounded like a good idea. At least I didn't get diarrhea, right?

Guess who?

Guess who got a new computer??



Yup.


Now, let me find a comfortable chair, because I have a lot to say. :)

Monday, October 20, 2008

Oh uh.



I dropped my computer!!





Actually, it cannonballed right out of my computer bag and out of a moving SUV. (I'm telling the IT guys the first story.) It's in at least four separate pieces. It's taken me one hour to type this much out, and download the pic. See the elaborate set up of pillows? It's not going to last much longer. It'll post later, once I find the duct tape.


Sorry.

Friday, October 17, 2008

The Cramp

So, I'm at the gym, and Tyrese says that he has a new exercises for me. (great!) There is a pole, no...more of a column....in the gym. (It's obviously structural, because it's uglier than ugly.) So, if you're thinking "stripper pole" think more along the lines of a subway pole. Anyways, after a fairly tough leg workout, he leads me to The Pole. I'm suppose to kneel, straddle the pole, open my knees apart as wide as they can go, and hold the pole with my hands over my head. (I hope this makes sense. There is no way that Google is going to have a picture of this.) So, now I'm at the bottom of the pole, with my hands over my head. He tells me to stand up, toes up, with all my weight on my heels. (THIS. IS. HARD) I could totally feel the muscles in the back of my legs.

"do 25 of those, then you will switch."

Around number 16, I could no long lift up my toes. My legs were shaking and quivering. He smiles, and pulls out two small blocks of wood. He places these under my toes, to keep the weight on my heels. I growl at him. I finish my first set of 25.

"Now, put the blocks under your heels, and do another 25"

THIS.IS.HARDER.

I'm grabbing on this pole for dear life. I'm sweating, so my hands keep slipping. I'm afraid that someone is going to think that I'm purposely rubbing my lady bits on the pole. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose my balance and fall over. I'm afraid that I'm going to fart.

I finish the sets, and stop. I stand up, walking around, stretching out my arms and legs.

"you're not done."

Dammit.

I straddle the pole again. This time, around number 23, I feel some pain.
Some sharp shooting pain.
On my ass.

"Cramp! Cramp! Cramp!"

I crumble to the ground. I'm rolling around like one of the Three Stooges.

"Where is it?!? Where is it?!?" he shouts at me.

I can't (and won't) answer him. I'm trying to decide if this pain will go away on it's own. (it won't)
He grabs my arm, and starts massaging.
"NO!"

He grabs my other arm, and starts massaging.
"NO!"

He grabs my leg and starts massaging my thigh.
"NO!"

He grabs my other leg, and starts massaging my other thigh.
"NO!"

He looks stumped.

"MY ASS! MY ASS! I HAVE A CRAMP IN MY ASS!!!!" I whisper in a tone only the stone deaf couldn't hear.

Now, this is the only time that I have ever seen the blood rush out of some one's face. He looked completely lost and confused. (um...who could blame him??) I could see by the the look on his face, that he was trying to decide what to do. Is this a joke? Is she really hurt? Why me?

He stands up, and scoops me up in his arms. (his manly, strong arms) I'll floundering around, so it's more like we are wrestling than him carrying me. He rushes me to his office, and throws me on the couch. (face first, I might add.) He shuts the door.

"Where?! WHERE?!"

I point my my left ass cheek.

He starts massaging my ass cheek!

My body tenses up, fighting it. He presses harder. (yup, that's going to leave a mark.) He starts kneading my ass cheek with all his might. (BTW, I don't have to fart anymore.) His thumb is closing in on the forbidden zone.
I lay there, clenching my teeth, waiting for the pain to go away.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, my ass stopped hurting.
"Okay, it's gone now," I whispered.
Tyrese sit down next to me, just as exhausted as I am.
Neither of us say anything.
We just sit there awkwardly.

Finally, he gets up and tells me, "you're not drinking enough water. You're on a high protein diet, so you need more water otherwise you're always going to cramp."

That's it??!

"you know, in some countries, we'd be married because of that."

He cringes.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

My eye!

I bought this energy mix called Zipfizz from Target. I understand its has "Fizz" right in the name. But when I dumped the mix in my water bottle, it fizzed up over the bottle!
All over my desk!
And for some reason it jumped up into my eye!!

It hurt so much.

I feel like I took it in the eye. (And not in the usual fun way that involves dressing up like Little Boo Peep.)

Doppleganger

So, I'm walking by the newish receptionist in my office today. As I walk by, she says to me, "Oh! I dropped off my son at the YMCA, and the teacher reminded me soooo much of you!"

"Oh....was she jaded?"

"No."

"Was she bitter?"

"NO!"

"Was she drunk??"

"OMG, I hope not! She was watching my son. Just something about her mannerisms reminded me of you. That's all. Just making conversation....."

Whatever.


Watch out ladies....there are two of us now.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Miss Britney

So....did you see the new video??








I recognize her workout.






Shhhh......don't tell anyone.

Another strange workout


You know, I really thought that with all the beautiful modern machines available at the gym, that somehow they were responsible for the magic of a stronger, hotter body. Tyrese is showing me, that you do not need machines and gimmicks to get sexy. If you want it badly enough, you will find a way.

After a grueling workout, I headed over the the treadmill, for my endless and mindless walk of death. He stops me, and tells me that he wants to try out something new.

Great. (And, "not fair! I wasn't even whining today!")

He leads me to an old decrepit machine. This thing has seen better days. It's sorely out of place in a gym full of shining clean machines. It's a Versaclimber. (Trust me, they were BIG in the 80's)
The machine seriously looks out of place. It looks like something he "won" in a late night poker game. (while all his poker pals held back all the snickering) Or something that he took as payment for services rendered. (you can use your imagination....) Either way, I snubbed it. Why the hell was I going to waste my time with something so old and useless???
And of course, if it was something that I didn't want to do......you can bet Tyrese was going to make me do it.
Twice.
So, he smooth talks me into it. (using his most velvety chocolate smooth voice.) He tells me, that instead of a half hour on the treadmill, I can do five minutes on this machine, and be done for the day.
SOLD!
I climb on the rickety rusty machine. (I swear...... I hear it creak and moan in pain) I move my right hand up, and my right foot follows. The left side soon follows. It's a little hard at first, because it seems like it hasn't been used in a long time. As I continue, it glides a little easier. I fear that the rusty bolts will give away at any moment.
After a minute, I'm sweating.
After two minutes, I'm dying.
After three minutes, I want to die.
After four minutes, I wanna kill someone.
After five minutes, I'm just so happy that I didn't pee on myself.
The whole time, the machine creaks and moans. (It really needs a good oiling.) But, it was harder than I thought, and I'm exhausted. That machine is tougher than it looks. It doesn't matter that it's old. Or out of shape. Or makes a lot of noise. It's still tough. It's still an ass kicker.
Just. Like. Me.
It's my favorite machine now. And I swear, I lose weight at twice the speed now that I have been losing it. (And I promise you, I'm the only one in this crazy Hollywood gym that is using it.) I work my way up to 15 minutes, and that makes me happy.
So, if you see something that is old, decrepit, and frail.......don't underestimate it or it might just kick your ass.
Just. Like. Me.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Coffee Does Not Fix All Ails

So, I get to have ONE cup of black coffee (no creamer, no sugar, no artificial sweeteners). You better believe that it's the best cup of coffee I've ever had.
So, one morning, I'm putting off eating my plain oatmeal. I'm getting to the point, that just the sight of oatmeal is making me gag. I glance over to the coffee pot, and think to myself, "Hey! I think I have a great idea!! I love coffee, and hate oatmeal. Why not pour in coffee in my plain oatmeal and make it taste better!!??"
I'm f'ng brilliant, right?


60 seconds later, the microwave dings. I grab my bowl, and hurry to my office. I cannot wait to try this culinary revolution.



It tastes like ass!


And worst yet, now I wasted my one cup of coffee!!
Arrrrggghhhh!

So, remember.....coffee and oatmeal do not make a good mix.

Blech!

Excuses, Excuses.

I like the Internet. Mostly because I can have the perfect life online. What do I mean? Well, if you read my posts, you get the sense that I never cheated on my diet, or that I worked out each day that I was supposed to work out.
BIG. FAT. LIE.
So, in order to make my online life as real as my IRL, here is the list of actual excuses that I've used to get out of working out.

5. I forgot:
a. my shoes
b. my socks
c. my pants (Yes. I actually said this.)

4. I have to work late tonight.

3. There is too much traffic.

2. I have no energy because I didn't eat enough.

1. I'm on my period and/or I have cramps.

The last time I used the period excuse, he told me, "Knock it off, you had your period on the 14th. Come in now."
I was stunned. How the hell did he know that??
Later, after my workout, I was in his office talking. I glanced over, and saw ON HIS WALL CALENDAR.
Client #43 (My name here) OTR

Yes, ladies...I'm such a pain in the ass that some man other than my husband and doctor is now documenting my cycles.

It's a gift.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Me vs. a Girdle

So, Tyrese suggests that I wear a waist trimmer when I'm on the elliptical machine. (yes, I'm still pumping away on it. And "no" it hasn't gotten any easier.) Alot of the people in this gym wear neoprene shorts, waist trimmers, and full space-man-aluminum suits that encourage sweating.
And lots of it.
The waist trimmer he suggest is suppose to encourage some target sweating on my most giggly area. (such a lovely thought, huh?) I turn down his request for me to wear the neoprene shorts, but agree to the waist trimmer. I pick it up at the sports store ($22) and toss it in my gym bag.

When I dress for the gym that day, I take out the trimmer. (It looked just like this one, but without the zippers. Zippers were more expensive, so I settled for a tube of neoprene.) I'm already dressed, so I'm not sure how to get this thing on. I finally figure out that I have to take off my shoes, and step into the tube. I fight with it for a while, and get it up past my hips. I struggle some more, and get it in place, under my clothes. It's slightly holding me in, so it gives me a nice shape. Not too bad, huh? I walk out of the gym, a little bit taller.

I'm on the machine, and start pumping. A few minutes later, I'm sweating.
Like some type of barn animal.
Especially around my midsection. I start to pump more. I'm really sweating now. Now, the neoprene is resistant to liquid, right? (think of a wetsuit) So, now that I'm all liquid-y, the neoprene is no longer holding me in. Instead, its swishing around my body, floating on a sea of sweat. (eeewww.) The trimmer is going every which way now. I continue with my workout. Soon, the top of the girdle starts to slowly roll down. (Like pantyhose do. That does happen to everyone else, right? It's not just me with the pantyhose, huh?) The girdle is slipping.........and now the bottom is rolling up. So, it's slowly rolling up into a weird rubber tube around my waist. Rubbing against my irritated skin, and sloshing on a layer of sweat. I try tugging at it, but it still resist me and continues to roll up.
The force is strong in this one.
It's now taking my t-shirt with it. My shirt is caught in the roll, and I'm somewhat exposing my bare white stomach to the world. (I'm sooo sorry.) I simply cannot take it anymore so I jump off the machine and head to the locker room.
I start wrestling with this animal. Trying to pry it off me. It's hot, wet, and slippery (eewww.) I don't want it to touch my face, so I pull it downwards.
It takes my pants with it.
I'm now standing in the locker room in my underwear.
I step out of the trap, and it grabs for my shoe.
Great, now it's stuck on my shoe.
I sit down, and peel it off of me. I drop it on the ground, and start stomping on it. (in case it starts to chase me, you know?) I get dressed and leave the girdle on the floor for some lucky treasure hunter.
Of course Tyrese doesn't believe me when I tell him that I was wearing it. (He thinks I made the whole thing up. As if.) He tries to convince me to give the neoprene shorts a try.
Are you out of your mind?!?
Next, he's going to ask me to wrap myself up in cellophane and hot sauce!!




Yeah, you're right. I'd probably try it.
Once.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Random Fat Embarrasing Moment #713

Here in Calif, we have the best of the best in fast foods. Yes, I'm talking about In-n-Out Burgers. The menu is simple but delicious. They specialize in fresh, fresh, fresh. (they never use freezers or microwaves.) The locations are small little shacklike kitchens, hence the "in and out". You don't even have to get out of your cars to enjoy the decadent meals! They pack your meals depending on whether you will be eating it in the car (you get a sturdy box to hold your meal) or take it home to eat (the meal gets bagged).
Years ago, while at my highest weight, I volunteered to pick up lunch for my coworkers. As I sat in my car, waiting for my turn. I placed my order to the giggling teen on the speaker box.
"One double-double with grilled onions, fries, and med coke. Two cheeseburgers, no onions. Two extra large orders of fries."
Giggle, giggle.
"and a strawberry shake."
Giggle, giggle, "um...you're not, like, totally going to eat that all in the car, right?" Giggle, giggle.

I managed to squeak out a small "no".

Giggle, giggle......."OK, pull on up!"

Did she just insult me? I'm not really sure. It's not like she can see me, right? But, that was weird, right?
As I pull up to the pick up window, I hear more giggling.

"I'm going to give her Diet coke instead!!"

Again, I want to believe that I'm not hearing this right. Why would someone be so cruel?? Of course I don't say anything to the two young blonde barbie dolls working inside. I see them giving each other the eye, and stifling more giggles. I say nothing as they hand me my food.
I drive away, feeling nauseous. I could still hear them laughing.
I ended up not eating my lunch. I had lost my appetite.

I just slowly sipped my diet coke, trying to push down the huge lump I had in my throat. (yeah, those bitches gave me a diet coke)

Friday, October 3, 2008

The Quest for Coffee

So, I'm still doing my thing. Eating bland foods, and working out every day. I'm not loving it, but at least I'm still not hating it. I'm still a whiny bitch, but at least I'm a funny whiny bitch. Which in turn make me and Tyrese "friends". (At this point in my life, I see him more often than I see Mr. Hummingbird) I still try to get away with as much as I can, and he still tries to kill me. It's a beautiful relationship.
One day, after my warm up, I walk over to the weight room to meet him. He says, "we're going outside today." Gggrrrrr.........He's getting creative again. I'm not sure if I'm going to like this. Plus, it's crazy hot outside.
Outside, he hands me a jump rope. And I laugh out loud.
He's totally kidding, right?!? What the hell am I paying him for if he's just going to make me jump rope??! I'm not 7 yrs old! (Yeah...... I don't say this out loud. I've learned my lesson on that, thankyouverymuch.)
"Seriously?" is all I say.
"Yup. See if you can jump for 30 secs straight."
I don't move. I really can't believe that he wants me to do this. It's hot. I'm outside, in front of the gym where everyone can see me. And he wants me to jump rope? He notices my hesitation. And he goes in for the kill.
"If you can jump rope for 60 secs straight, I'll add coffee to your diet."
OH. HELL. YES.
I haven't had coffee in over a year. I dream about coffee. I smell coffee everywhere I go. I salivate every time I drive by a coffee shop.
"you're on, sucker."

"1, 2, 3, Damn."

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, DAMMIT."

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5..............23, 24, 25, DAMMIT!!"

"1,2,...............45, ,46 ,47...........WHAT THE HELL?!?"


45 minutes later.


"1, 2, 3........57, 58, 59, 60!!!"
I crumple to the ground. I'm covered in sweat. I'm dirty. My face is on the concrete. (eeww!) I lost a shoe at some point. I'm panting, wheezing, and coughing all at the same time. I'm drooling again and I have snot all over my face.
I open one eye, and notice that at some point, a crowd had gathered around me. (great!) I open the other eye, and look around for Tyrese. I see him inside the gym, sitting in a chair and enjoying the air conditioning, looking at me through the plate glass windows. He's smiling.
I smile, and slowly raise my right arm. And I flip him the bird.
His smile gets bigger, and then he mouths the words, "300 bicycles" at me.

Dammit.







Don't kid yourself. It was worth it.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

A Visit to my Doctor

During the time that I broke my last toilet seat, and the time I saw my Celebrity Trainer, I took a trip to see my family doctor. Now, I don't go to the doctor unless I'm really afraid of some limb falling off me or if something is turning a weird color. But, at the urging of my Celebrity Diet Expert, I decided to go in for a full check up. I'd been to the doctor (OB/GYN) because I had been trying to get pregnant. But, my OB could only do so much for me. My General Practitioner was going to run a full array of tests. My serious concern was my thyroid. I needed to make sure that it was right on track.
At the office, I had to get on the scale, which I absolutely hated. The nurse whispered the number to me like a dirty little secret that we were both sharing, (326 lbs) while I knew that had I weighed 150 lbs, she would have shouted it across the room. I was poke and prodded. (but, not the good kind) And stuck with a needle. My doctor did a quick physical exam. (he was worried about my lungs of all things!) He asked me how often I went pooh. How often I peed. Did I sleep on my back? Did I have any pains? After a long list of questions, he sent me home to return in a few days.
Upon my return, I actually felt better. And lighter. I sit in the office, and wait for my results. He tells me the words that I've been dreading...........

"There is nothing wrong with you. The only way you will lose weight is with proper dieting and exercising."

Great. I know I should be happy, but I was hoping to have an excuse.
"So, you're sure that my thyroid is fine? I'm really worried about it. I think it's keeping me from losing the weight."

"Nope, it's borderline, but that shouldn't affect you."

I thank him, and get ready to leave. Then, he says it.

"You know, if you just skip dinner every night, the weight will just melt off."



WHAT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I leave, disgusted. Obviously, this guy does not understand being overweight.

AT. ALL.

I never go back to that particular doctor. It's been close to 10 years now.

Flashback to Failed Diet- The Corn Diet

Yup. Take a few minutes to take it all in.

The Corn Diet.

(for those of you with a weak disposition, you may want to just skip this post altogether)
The idea is just to eat corn for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Yummy.
You are allowed to eat it roasted, steamed, boiled, and (if you really, really wanted to) raw. The basic idea behind this diet is that corn is not only a high fiber food, but it's also very difficult to digest. (those of you that still change diapers will know what I'm talkin' about) So, like many "diets" the hope is that you get full on food that will pass through your body so quickly that it hardly has time to digest. Sounds absolutely lovely, right?
Actually, it sounded like my ass was a machine gun.
Days on the diet: 2 days
Lbs lost: zero
Cost of diet: $160 for the plumber to come fix my toilet.