Hotel Towels, The Enemy.


Okay, seriously… what is the deal with hotel towels? Since when did it become okay for us, cherished guests to dry ourselves off with a washcloth? Dear Hotel Towel Makers, you really need to reevaluate your game, because soon enough you’ll find me drying off in an actual bed sheet.. walking around fancy hotel lobbies in a makeshift toga. Don’t try me, I am not afraid.

Let’s get real- hand towels are NOT bath towels. I go to hotels, not only to clean them out of all bathroom amenities, but to use all the finer things which are not offered to me at home (and  for obvious reasons, like shelter!) I like hotels mainly for the first class shower caps, slippers, and one million thread count bed sheets…just to name a few. Even healthy sized individuals have an issue wrapping these microscopic “towels” around themselves. It’s a worldwide problem- why isn’t anyone doing anything about it? If the sole reason of making towels so small is so I won’t take them, ya’ll are in for a big surprise, I will gladly stuff them into my suitcase! In fact, since they’re made so small, I can fit double the amount in my luggage. My dog will love his new paw cleaners.

Hotel Towel Makers, please be considerate of others. I will stop stealing your towels if you start making them in appropriate sizing. I am just trying to help others. It hurts us.

 

Dear Yoga Teacher


Dear Yoga Teacher, or any fitness instructor for that matter,

Thank you for thinking that I’m just as flexible as Amanda and Rihanna, however, I hate to break it to you, but I am not. I can’t even sit in child’s pose without my feet getting stuck in my butt. Isn’t child’s pose supposed to be the comfortable one when I’m relaxing? I don’t find it relaxing, I feel stressed, and also,  I need a muscle relaxant just to keep my knees on the ground, and my head in a normal position. When I have to do downward dog, I feel like I’m a 6 foot Great Dane, unable to keep myself up. I shake everywhere like I’m doing the freaking salsa in an awkward pose.  When everyone else is doing that funky thing when their feet are in the air and we have to reach, has it ever occurred to you that I have a stomach and it gets in the way? Seriously, it’s like one of the orange cones that won’t let you move. MY STOMACH IS AN ORANGE CONE.

Your enthusiasm makes me feel like I could do it, but the tire around my waist really just gets in the way.

 

Sincerely,

A motivated, still fat wannabe Yogi.

Wedding Planning and Wedding Fittings


Whoever said wedding planning is fun and the best time of your life, is obviously a sick human being…and on some serious crack. Wedding planning has been the most stressful, complicated year of my life. Instead of focusing all my energy on losing weight to fit in my dress (which is purchased, in one size smaller), I’ve transferred all the time and energy to planning and the scale is now punishing me for my actions.

When I say the dress is a size smaller, it literally does not close! Somehow, my mom can sense when I’m eating something bad, or something that I shouldn’t be eating, and she sends me pictures of the back of my dress…oh you know the one she secretly took when I was trying them on at the store. The back of the dress that won’t zip, with back fat pouring out of the back- yeah that one. Mom, why can’t you be one of those mom’s that’s technologically challenged, and not know how to send pictures? Ronnie Ginger is also the best mother because she finds it amusing to remind me not to be a fat bride “Hilly, I’m watching SYTTD BIG BLISS, you can look like this bulging beauty”

Instead of focusing on a number to lose, I’m now focusing on having the dress close. Mother Dearest has made a plan with me (which I never agreed to) that if the dress closes, she will gladly pay for the alterations, but should the dress NOT close at all, then I need to pay for alterations, and then refund her for the rest of the dress. So, in order to save myself some money, I will continue to work out in front of the TV, even if Gertrude, my geriatric neighbor watches me through her window every night. Pray for me, people!

Bread….Warm Buttery Bread


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Growing up, I was never allowed to touch the bread at restaurants. You know the delicious hot bread that comes with butter at the beginning of most meals? It’s the bread that comes to the table, when you’re at your hungriest. As a child…well from eight years old, until today, I was always taught that bread was the enemy, and even looking at it would make me gain weight. I would watch with envy, and with drool coming out of my mouth , while my petite brother (sorry D) would chomp away at the tasty bread…with butter. Even before it hit the table, Ronnie Ginger would give me the eyes, making me aware that she was watching me, and that bread was MY enemy. When I became older and started going to restaurants with friends, I began to eat the free bread because no one was watching or judging. Little did I know that with each bite, I’d be blowing up a little more each time. On Donald’s first encounter with Ronnie Ginger, when he was just an innocent little boyfriend, taking his new girlfriend on dates, she nicely warned him that when he takes me out to restaurants, that I was not permitted, under any circumstances to eat the bread. She said this because I loved it so much…so she thought! Just to be clear, I don’t even like bread, I find bread to be dry, and boring and really just a waste of space. If I’m going to eat bread, I’m going to make it worth it- like a grilled cheese or French toast, but just plain bread doesn’t do it for me. The reason I became so aggressive as a child when I was refused the free bread at the table, was only because I was never allowed to have it. People always want what they can’t have, right? (I wasn’t allowed a lot of things apparently).

The thing with me and bread though, is that, bread is free, and it comes with most meals in America, and some parts of Canada. If it’s free, I like it, because I like good value. On the other hand, the whole reason why we’re going to a restaurant is because we’re hungry. If the polite waiter asks if I would like some free hot bread, and I’m hungry, and he places it right in front of me-then I’ll have a bite. I’m not going to eat an entire freaking basket of bread… this is because

1) I’m not an animal

and

2) I physically can’t keep in an entire load of bread

The moral of the story is, don’t deprive yourself. If you deprive yourself for your entire life, then one day you’ll eat an entire basket of bread, and wake up 50 pounds heavier.

Go ahead, have a bite, just a little bite.

New Years Resolutions!


New Years resolutions suck. It’s always the same crap- ” I want to lose ten pounds”, “I’m going to start running”, “I’m going to join the gym”… People are such liars. I’ve been a liar my whole life, I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on memberships to gyms that I’ve never walked into, and I’ve lost ten pounds to gain back twenty. So instead of the usual resolutions of weight loss, and gym memberships, I’m thinking of this new fun and free resolution, which is….-Smiling. SMILING is free, and fun, and makes angry people even angrier when you cut them off in traffic! Smiling also makes cheekbones look really defined without makeup, and also gives off this beautiful glow. Smiling also shows off my collar bones when I do it really drastically and look like a movie star.

I have many reasons to smile. Reasons such as, that  I’m finally in ONEderland,  I arrived there back in November, and I’ve stayed there. I’ve even lost two more pounds while on vacation. (I got sick sometime between New Years and now, so it might have helped with the weight loss). Also, my lovey dovey boyfriend, Donald Cho is no longer my boyfriend. He’s my fiancé and I’m finally Fiancé Knowles! I can now smile even more knowing that I have a beautiful day to plan, with my beautiful man friend! Also, I have to fit into a wedding dress, so I’ll probably take a break from smiling during that time, because wedding dress shopping is never fun. Actually, any dress shopping with any parental figure isn’t fun–Love you Mom, don’t take it personally!

So, all jokes aside… I’m setting small goals for myself. Like losing thirty pounds by tomorrow, all by smiling.

If I could keep going at the rate I’m going now, then I could totally lose 0.5 pounds a week before the wedding! I need all the help and encouragement I can get!

To My Grandma


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On November 5th 2014,  I suffered a great loss. My wonderful, amazing, beautiful grandmother passed away. My grandmother,  was my best friend, and someone who I spoke to everyday. Being the oldest grandchild, I knew I was lucky to have both my grandparents at 26, so I made sure to speak to her everyday, sometimes even twice a day. I knew that I wouldn’t have them forever, so I made sure to speak to them as much as I could. She would never let me speak to my grandfather, because she wanted me all to herself. My Grammy made it a point to judge, criticize, and comment when necessary, and she really had no filter; but I loved every moment of it! It feels so weird not to be able to call her anymore, this is the longest we’ve gone without speaking.

In the end, my grammy had a very weak heart, and she was in so much pain, but was too proud to say anything. Grammy was such a fighter and really wanted to live forever. Her heart was too weak and was not able to handle all the love she had for all her kids, grandkids and her soulmate- my Papakins!

Aside from Donald, and Mommy Ginger, my Grammy was the one person who really helped me stay on track with my weight loss and who pushed me to succeed. She knew as well as anyone, that my biggest fight was to get under 200 pounds. This is something that  I have been struggling with for the last 15 years of my life. For the last 6 months I have bounced near ONEDERLAND, but was never able to actually make it. My weight loss for the last two months has gone from 215.3 to 205.7 to 202.4 to 201.3 to 200.6 to 200.3. On the morning of November 5 2014, the day my grandma left us, I suffered not only one great loss, but two.  I got on the scale, because I felt a change within myself… to my surprise, the scale had shown me something I haven’t seen in a decade and a half… a ONE, on the scale. I got on and weighed 199.2….WITH CLOTHES! This may be so little to most people, this is something extremely huge for me, and is such a milestone in my life.

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While I know my Grammy is no longer with us in person, she is definitely with me in spirit. I don’t think I could have ever done this without her. I think that was her way of telling me that she is still here and watching over me. I never believed in that kind of stuff, but to me, it doesn’t seem like a coincidence.

Grandma, wherever you are, know that I love you, and I think about you everyday. Thank you for helping me succeed, and making me who I am today. I couldn’t have done it without you. I will never stop thinking about you, and I thank you for watching over us.

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First Dates: How I Developed My Pet Name


First dates are both interesting and intimidating. You really need to make a good impression the first time you’re out with a complete stranger. First dates are extremely frightening, especially if you’re going for dinner to a fancy restaurant with a stranger you hardly know. Luckily, I haven’t had to worry about any first dates in a long time, but the last time I went on one, it was quite special.

Let’s just say, Donald has been calling me “Miss I’ll Just Have A Salad Please” since our first date together, which was just over three and a half years ago. Now, there are many reasons why he gave me this nickname. Firstly, on our first date, he took me to a super nice restaurant, one that I would normally only be able to afford while on a Groupon. Let’s just start off by saying, I loved bread and butter. This warm, delicious, smoking bread came to the table with soft butter, and all I wanted to do was shove my face in it and devour it all. I know that first dates really are the first impression, so I didn’t want to come off as a ravenous animal who has never seen bread before. I watched Donald eat the bread, and the while salivating watching him with each bite he took. When it came time to ordering the meal, I undoubtedly did just have a salad. A warm spinach salad to be exact… BARF! What the hell was I thinking? Obviously I didn’t want to go on a date with this guy and be like “Oh hey, I’ll have a AAA Angus Steak with mashed potatoes, and extra melted cheese on top, Oh, and of course a shrimp cocktail to start”. Although, it really was what I wanted, I couldn’t afford an $80 meal, and didn’t want him to think that I was a fat cow. I ate only half of my warm spinach salad, while getting more and more squeamish with each bite. I watched him eat his sausage pasta and was jealous that I made the wrong choice. (Is it normal that I remember what he ate? I must have been starving myself) As soon as I got home, I made myself a nice box of Kraft Dinner, because I was starving… (please keep in mind this was pre-surgery). Thinking back, I wasn’t the skinniest of girls, why would a fat girl go to a nice restaurant and order a warm spinach salad? Obviously he knew the kind of food I was into.. I mean after all, he isn’t stupid! I guess I also ordered the warm leaves because what if he didn’t like me, and walked out, and made up some story like he had to go take his blood sugar and left me with the bill? I had to order the cheapest thing on the menu; especially after he ordered BOTTLED WATER! Who orders bottled water? Not that I’m cheap or anything, actually I am- but tap water is just fine with me and I don’t feel poor asking for it! I know it’s not nice to assume that he was paying for the meal, I guess I’m just old fashioned like that.

Anyway, two months later, or some time after that, he finally asked me if I wanted to be his official girlfriend. I said yes, and then decided it was alright to eat normally. Once he saw me scarf down my first steak, I adopted the name “Miss I’ll Just Have A Salad Please” I told you he was smart!

Now, it’s okay to eat normal in front of each other. With three and a half years of dating, comes comfort. We still haven’t gotten comfortable with going to the bathroom with the door open, but we’re taking baby steps!