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!

Fat People Don’t Love All Food

Most ordinary people who don’t know much about anything would think that all fat people like all foods, and that when it comes to overweight people and dietary restrictions, there are none. Well I’m here to tell you, that as an average overweight person, I do not like all foods. My list of foods that I like is long, but I’ll try to keep it to a minimum.


Cheese is probably the most amazing gift from the cow gods. I’m pretty sure from what I’ve been told, that cheese is just rotten milk, but it tastes delicious. Now, while cheese may be yummy, I’m very particular about them. I know, how weird!… A fat person is particular about a type of food they like? I like all hard cheeses, as long as they’re not stinky. Really old cheddar and smoked gouda are my favorite. My mom used to buy smoked gouda when we were kids. It was a reward to get it, and I’d really have to work hard to get a piece; just one. That was until, I learned where the cheese drawer was and started eating an entire pack of cheese like a bag of chips. After Ronnie Ginger, my loving mother found out that I knew where the cheese stash was, it was over. The good expensive cheese stopped entering the house from that day. I was stuck with that “light” Kraft “cheese”… or should I say, Kraft plastic? Also, melted cheeses are so good. Like in a lasagna, when the mozzarella becomes ooey gooey… that’s pretty good. On to what I don’t like in the cheese category- I’m not one for stinky soft cheeses, or soft cheese in general. If I ever smelled a donkeys butt hole, I’d assume it smells like Blue Cheese, that stuff smells gross and why anybody would want to eat food the color of the rainbow really boggles my mind. I know it’s really in right now to like Brie and that Camembert stuff, but I just can’t. The smell reminds me of my locker in high school and it just brings back terrible memories for me.


I love meat. Red meat. I like my meat rare. Obviously I’m not into eating my meatballs rare, but I totally adore some nice fancy meat once in a while. (When I say I like it, I like it, but I can only have about four bites until my stomach can’t take it anymore) Anyway, being Jewish, at most of our family holiday events, there’s always CHOPPED LIVER. I hate it! I can’t stand the sight of it, the smell of it, anything about it. To me it just looks like a bowl of mushed up poop and smells like it too. Sometimes Donald thinks it’s funny to breathe on me after he eats it. It’s an instant appetite decreaser for me! Also, ham and I don’t get along that great. I’m not sure if this fits in to the meat category, but whatever. I always loved Charlottes Web, and the thought of eating a sweet little pig really haunts my dreams… I do like bacon though. I swear I’m not a hypocrite.

Breads & Carbs:

Ever since I had my gallbladder surgery, for some reason, I can’t eat certain bread anymore. It’s like the surgeon gave me the gift of not being able to tolerate the things that are bad for me! Baguette is buttery goodness, but I have since had to say goodbye to it, along with the healthy flax seed bread, and any type of sandwich bread. For some reason though, croissants go down just fine; which for me I find unfortunate. Buuuut fortunately for me, I can only have 1/4 of it until I’m full. Those buttery delights are also murderous tasty treats. I’m not really one for chips. I find that they’re messy, and since I stain a lot of my clothes, I don’t find it worth it to eat chips unless I have a Tide-To-Go handy! Pasta and me no longer get along. Which, to be honest, doesn’t really bother me all that much, because it’s just a space waster in my stomach and I only made pasta when I was lazy.


I LOVE CANDIES! I LOVE HALLOWEEN. I LOVE THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN WHEN EVERYTHING IS HALF PRICE. Candy doesn’t like me though. The second I eat a piece of candy, it goes straight to my triple chin and I’m just a sweaty hot mess. I made a promise to myself that I would not have a single candy before my birthday. So far, I’ve broken that promise twice. However, on a more positive note, I’m starting again tonight. I usually only like orange flavored candy, and mostly anything citrusy, or chocolatey. I hate black licorice, and cherry flavored snacks. But that’s about it!

Until then, I’ll keep working on the list of foods I don’t like!

The Scale: My Hate Relationship



I’ve stopped my affair with the scale. I don’t understand how one plastic box which displays numbers, can do so much harm! I love that little plastic box, but at the same time I hate it. When my little unpolished toes step on that box of fun, I can’t wait to see the number! Once my eyes set eyes on the scale, and I see that I’ve lost two pounds, my body goes into fat girl mode and decides that it’s time to binge. I know, “two pounds are wonderful, why would you want to sabotage that?”, first of all,  whoever is actually thinking that, you need to seriously shut up- because it’s not like I got on the scale and was all giddy and excited to eat like a fat horse. My plan isn’t to regain everything that I had just lost. I can’t control it. Most of the time when I eat, I’m not hungry. It’s an addiction. Yes, call me crazy, and fat, or just crazy fat but people can be addicted to food! Food is there, so I eat it. You can’t tell an alcohol addicted meth head that they have to stop all their bad habits in an instant. It takes time, and learning. While I know it’s already been seven months since surgery, I still struggle with my addiction, daily. It’s too bad they don’t make rehab for fat people who struggle from food addictions. I strongly believe that people on the outside truly believe that we fat people choose to eat ourselves sick, and to binge eat. It’s not like that, I can promise you that. While I know Hefty Helga has died, part of her still lives on in my mind, and will forever.

It’s so hard to be addicted to something that we are subjected to everyday. We need food to survive, and it’s everywhere I go! No matter how much I try to walk away from food, it surrounds me; whether it comes from passing the vending machine,  or hearing the disgustingly loud people around me chewing like horses etc. I’m supposed to train myself, and to learn that food is for eating, and not an activity to take up when I am bored. Do I really want to be that girl one day who introduces herself and says “Oh Hello, I’m Hillary. Nice to meet you. I’m a professional eater. What do you do?” Like seriously.  As sick as it sounds, sometimes I wish I had another addiction. Maybe being addicted to some of those Breaking Bad drugs wouldn’t be the greatest thing for me, or my teeth, but maybe it would make me forget about food. Food really doesn’t make me feel anything. I used to feel satisfied during and after binge eating, but now I find myself feeling sad, and depressed after I’ve eaten something I know I shouldn’t.

One thing I’ve started doing, is making new friends. I’ve made new friends with my stomach. After I eat something I shouldn’t, I lift up my shirt, and stare at the scars. I look at the scars, which help me in reminding myself how I got here, and what I plan to accomplish. Eating a bag of chips won’t help in shrinking those scars, eating because I’m bored in general won’t help shrink the scars. The only thing that will help shrink the surgery scars, is me. Chips, chocolate, cookies, ice cream etc, are all parts of my life that really have no place there. They are not wanted, and there is no need for it. I’ve told myself so many times; “Eat to live, don’t live to eat”, it’s so easy to say it, but so hard to do.

And for the five hundredth, and hopefully last time, I say this: No More Excuses. I get on the scale, and I be proud that I’ve accomplished a two pound weight loss. I get on that scale, and instead of marching my fat bottom to the fridge, I walk it out the door, and for a walk (not to the ice cream store).


Cheers To Water



I only like water if its for boiling pasta, or to make water balloons. Other than that, I don’t really care for it. I have an addiction to Diet Pepsi, we all know how I feel about that bad boy. Anyway, I’ve finally come to the realization that not drinking water, at all, is causing me to stall. Like, I will go out of my way not to drink water. When my mouth feels like a desert in there, and it’s raining like a crazy thunder storm out there, instead of sticking my tongue out and taking some of that bad ass free fresh water, I decide that I will trek out in my cloth shoes just to get an iced tea or some type of juice.

I just feel like ever since this surgery, everything is so forced. I’m forced to not eat a lot, I’m forced to drink water, I’m forced to eat protein first- just lots of forcing. When it comes to drinks, I just need some taste. Water doesn’t really have taste. If I were to describe the taste of water as one thing, it would probably be just wet air. I know, this is a problem. If you’re going to judge me about this, shut up, seriously. Water is boring. I know, there are perks. Water is thirst quenching, and water is amazing, and water has nutrients. I know, water is good, water is great. I’m bored. I have ADD and I need something with a kick. I’m a very enthusiastic person, I love food, and can’t eat as much of it anymore, so if I can’t eat something extravagant, I want to drink it, get what I’m saying?

This last week, I headed over to the wonderful land of the Dollar Store; I go crazy in there. I saw a bag of dairy milk chocolate things that made me salivate,  Helga almost rose from the dead- but I just walked on by, over to the water bottle department. Getting to the water bottle department, I saw big ones, small ones , tall ones , short ones , green ones , blue ones . I picked up the green one that really resembled Shrek. I marked times on this bottle and made it a point to fill this water bottle up everyday. Every two hours was only one glass of water which came out to 1.65L during the day, which when you think about it that way, isn’t all that bad. 1.65L was way more than enough!

Today, this task was completed! I feel fantastic, and the bathroom has become my best friend.Just in case y’all were wondering, my pee came out crystal clear today! Go water!


Diet Deliciousness

Today marks exactly six months since I gave up my severe addiction. I still carry many more addictions, but I was addicted to a delicious bubbly drink. Yes, as sick as it is to say, I was obsessed to Diet Pepsi. Not Diet Coke, because that stuff tastes like vomit and makes your teeth feel like they’re going to rot, but the real Pepsi stuff. And also, not the regular Pepsi. I preferred the taste of diet. After surgery, soda is a big no no, because the carbonated beverages stretch out the stomach, making the surgery completely useless in the end. If for some miraculous reason I was still allowed to drink it, I probably would. But I’m better off without it.

Diet Pepsi had the perfect amount of bubbles to taste ratio. It has a tangy yet sweet taste. It makes you burp when you’re feeling full. Pepsi is especially delicious when it’s on sale at the grocery store for $0.88 a bottle. I specifically remember this one time where there was a huge sale on DP, fat me ran to every single grocery store, and did rain checks, and bought the most that I was allowed. The cashier gave me a dirty look, and I was all like “Girl, yes, this is all for me, do you have a problem with that?”. I should have taken that face as a sign because I should not have had all that soft drink. That shit aint soft. I put on a good five pounds just from drinking it. DP always gave me the best burp at the best time, leaving me with more room in my deflated football sized stomach to eat more. It has crossed my mind to have a little sip here and there. I won’t lie and say I haven’t done it. I have. I mostly just smell it when other people order it- but just so I can smell the bubbles and then choke once they get stuck up my nose.


I’m so happy that I have cured that addiction.

I still want just one sip though.

Up In Flames


I meant it when I said that all people have addictive personalities. If this wasn’t the case, then why would over 80% of our population be on anti depressants? Yes, I am the first to admit, that I have an addictive personality. Whether we choose to believe this or not, we all have this trait, and as much as you tell yourself you are not that person, here’s a reality check– you are. For example, if you’re the worrying type, and you begin to dwell on something long enough, and let it take over your head, you are addicted to worrying, or suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; but who’s paying attention, right? To have an addictive personality, doesn’t only have to be seen as a detrimental quality, but in some cases, this can be acceptable and in some cases positive. 

While for the last twenty years this addiction was food, I am learning to ween it on to something else. Perhaps instead of developing an alcohol or drug addiction, I can take this addictive behaviour and turn it into something positive. I want to be the one that is addicted to working out, addicted to being healthy, addicted to love, addicted to helping others. Addiction isn’t always a negative thing; as antagonistic people may make it out to be. Admitting that I do suffer from these fixations, does not make me a weaker person. In fact, quite contrary, it makes me stronger. So what? I’m addicted to food. Who doesn’t like food. I wouldn’t have had my stomach surgically removed if there wasn’t a problem there. I’m opening up to the world, and not hiding it anymore. If I chose to hide this quality about me, then there would have been a bigger problem. 

So maybe my previous food addiction was my demise, but one thing’s for sure, feeling better, getting healthier, looking sharper and channelling my energy in positive ways every day is my new addiction!

Finally Fitting In



OK, don’t hate me, but I’m going to get all mushy for a second. I was out last night with Donald and his coworkers; Carla, Mr. La Hyman, Willow, Adamo and Sasha. For the first time since I was able to like speak, I finally felt “normal”. I know, I know, there is no such thing as normal, and everyone is special in their own special way. No, whoever made that up (Oprah, probably you), you must have been on crack because weird people are weird, and enjoy hanging out with other weird people and don’t feel cool. Popular kids hang out with the popular people, and like to feel like they’re better than everyone else around them. Society made that up, not me. Don’t hate me because I speak the truth. KK, thanks! Ok so anyway, last night,  I totally just felt like I fit in, and I was making jokes and totally felt cool for like that night. I think I’m getting more comfortable with myself.

I hope Donald doesn’t get mad, but I totally saw this dude checking me out when we walked into the bar and he kept giving me googly eyes, and I was all like “yeah, I’m hot, I know it”. I won’t lie, but I totally had “I’m Sexy and I Know it” playing at the time this creeper was checking my hot bod out. Anyway, it boosted up my confidence level a bit, and now I’m totally excited to go out again and be the life of the party.

So when I was fat(ter), I was always super loud, and obnoxious and strange and made really odd sounds, and my mom thought that there was a kind of like, chemical imbalance in my brain. I went to doctors, and they all said the same thing. (I don’t remember, probably that I had ADHHHHHD or something). Dr. Me, has come to the conclusion that I was just masking the pain of being a fat girl. I would do so, by being a loud obnoxious “oaf”. So to try to get the attention off of my body, I would just try to be strange. Anyway, not sure where I’m going with this, but I’m totally able to be loud and obnoxious now, and do it just because I want to, and not because I’m fat and trying to cover being the Michelin Man.

Ps. Hey Skinny Girls,

I love you. We’re BFFAEAE.


Soon-to-be Skinny Girl