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:

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.

Meat:

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.

Candies:

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!

Eff The Scale


I’ve come to the conclusion that the scale is a big fat bully. This stupid, glass, square shaped ass looks at me every time I pee and just wants me to stand on it and upset me.  Donald bought this super fancy one that tells you you’re fat, tells you how much oxygen you have, and then sends a notification to your phone reminding you how fat you are. First of all, once I get on the scale, that’s enough, I don’t need to get a little reminder with that number on my phone! How rude… Oxygen? Really?…I’m fine! 

 

So, I started this new thing and I’ve been doing it for about a week and it’s magical! I’ve started to measure my weight loss in the form of compliments rather than in the form of a stupid number. This past week, I have had one person say “I can’t believe what you look like today compared to what you used to look like“, ( I mean, I know I look a lot better, but I was never so hideous you couldn’t look at me!) for that compliment, I will take off 2.1 pounds. Then two days later, someone else said how thin my face got- another pound there! Measurements in compliments is way more effective than getting on some stupid box. By the way scale making people, perhaps you should make a scale that gives you compliments like; ” Good Morning Beautiful” or “You Look Nice Today”, what’s the point of these mean numbers anyway?

So from now on, I will keep eating my vegetables, and all you nice friendly people around me can keep the nice comments coming… I’m listening!!

Morning Hikes


Image

 

This weekend, my lovely amazing boyfriend thought it would be a marvelous idea to go take a hike in our backyard. I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. We seriously have a mountain trail for walking, (which I think is mostly up hill) in our backyard. So we went for an effing hike. My walk started off terribly. Some skinny, older lady, around 50, with bushy eyebrows, gave us two fatties a face like “really, you think you’re going to walk all this? Please go home” and then she started doing this stupid stretch, from that point  her face just really bothered me and I didn’t want to be anywhere near her. While she was still stretching at the bottom of the hill and me and Donald decided to start our adventurous walk. This workout started off with an abundance of stairs, followed by a ten minute uphill climb. I was ready to go home after my first asthma attack, but Donald suggested that we keep going. As we’re walking, bushy eyebrow lady decides to walk ahead of us to make us feel even fatter. I know it was intentional, because she gave us a stupid face as she walked by. Seriously Greta, I don’t need your stares, I get enough of those from my mom (love you Mama Bear). So, at this point, I’m pissed off, and I just want to find a bench and sit-for a long time. Sitting is one of my favorite pastimes, especially in public places, because I absolutely adore people watching. After sitting down for about thirty seconds,  I looked down at my fat stomach, and told myself that I don’t want to wear Spanx for the rest of my life, so I’m going to need to keep on going. 40 minutes later, we had finally made it, and with our beautiful walk, we had the most beautiful view of our city! It was only fitting to act like tourists and take some selfies while we were at it!

 

Image

Beautiful view of our beautiful city Montreal

 

After we had finished our photo shoot, I was so excited to get home, and to get into a shower and do nothing for the rest of the day. Donald, my amazingly, surprising fantastic boyfriend tells me that we’re only halfway there, and we have 1.3 kilometers to go. I told him he was funny and then started to walk home. He gave me the same face as Greta gave me an hour earlier. I then chased a squirrel, and proceeded to fake my second asthma attack. It didn’t work. We trekked up, and I literally counted every single one of my steps, counting down until it was over. My walking companion was fantastic, but honestly, the amount of fit people that I saw there, made me sick and really uncomfortable. Also, it was like -10, I was wearing a blanket and I was sweating like a horse. Do horses sweat? I don’t know, but if they did, I was sweating like one.  After another half hour, we FINALLY made it to the top of the mountain. Two Jews, on Easter checking out a huge Cross at the top of Montreal, that’s what we did this weekend!

When it came time to go home and we started our walk down the hill, I was already two snacks overdue, and I saw some people BBQ’ing. Donald told me it wasn’t right to walk over and ask for some hot dogs.

The rest of the way home, I complained of a backache, only because I wanted a massage, but D wouldn’t give in. Rude. I’m just happy we completed the whole thing. I would have been a lot more depressed if I would have sat on a bench all morning.

Image

Image

The Fat Game


Image

 

Being skinny would just be too easy right? Like, eating double cheeseburgers with an extra Big Mac on the side, and not working out would just make my life extremely boring? I seem to think so. With this whole new way of life thing going on, it’s kind of like a crazy game. I’m going to eat one thing and see if it makes me fat the next day. Then I go to the gym, and it’s like I’m in pain from one squat. But it’s a fun game. Being skinny and not having to work for anything would just be boring. It’s also really fun when someone hasn’t seen you in a while and all they do is say “hey, wow sexy fit girl, you look amazing” and then I feel great, because I like a confidence boost every once in a while. I actually like a confidence boost all the time, but we don’t always get what we want.

This gramatically incorrect paragraph above, which really makes no sense, is not me hating on skinny people. More power to you if you can eat a chubby chicken burger and not gain a pound. But doesn’t it get boring? I’m getting off track and I’m being mean. Skinny people are people too. I’m just jealous but their amazing genes.

I should stop my fat thumbs from talking because I’m beginning to ramble about nothing now.

D Is For Doritos


Image

 

Doritos. Do I need to say more? Doritos are the cheesiest, crunchiest delicious little triangles of goodness. Seriously, no chip does it for me other than a Dorito. Also, who can really sit down and eat just one Dorito. They are all so perfectly traingularly shaped. Doritos have the perfect amount of cheese to crunch ratio. The cheese doesn’t taste like that cheap stuff, but I know that it is. There’s this kick to it that is kind of spicy, but then you take a moment to think about it, and it’s not spicy. It’s a magic tortilla crisp. I’m salivating and feeling fatter as I write this.

Yesterday was my first encounter with a family sized Coscto style bag of Doritos since surgery. I said hello, smelled it, and then I licked it. After licking it, I proceeded to bite its head off and really just enjoy the hell out of it. It being one chip, no, I shouldn’t lie– I had four chips. I didn’t feel guilty, even though my mommy would probably want me to be angry that I ate those four little triangular cheesy taste munchers.

Anyway, I’ll enjoy munching on my pickle for now. See you next summer Mr.Dorito.

My Personal Fashion Statement


Image

 

My clothing options weren’t always the best choice. I would have two extremes. Either I would dress myself up as a homeless bag lady, or I’d pretend that I weighed 120 pounds and wear booty shorts with a barely there t-shirt. Either way, no matter the outfit, I looked ridiculous. It’s funny though. I would leave my house, thinking I looked absolutely spectacular, and it would take only one strange look for me to feel ridiculous in my outfit of the day. I’ve come to the realization that nobody can make me feel pretty but me. Maybe I like my oversized sweaters. They’re comfy and make me look ten pounds larger than I really am. I like them and I’m comfortable in them, so I will wear them! Maybe I also like to show off my pleasantly plump belly button. I like my belly button. I think it’s nice and perfectly rounded and perfect in general. Why shouldn’t I want to show that bad boy off?

Maybe it’s because I’ve never loved myself up until now, or because I’m learning to love me for me. Who knows. Whatever it is. Maybe someday I will want to wear fancy couture, or I will want to wear less revealing boobie clothes and more revealing bum bum clothes. If I feel good in what I’m wearing, then I will wear it. Let there be reactions from others, I’ll take it as a compliment. I’ll love me, no matter what I wear. I’m more important than what the clothes on my back.

Charlie Hane sent me this little piece yesterday, and I was blown away by it…

 

“I just know that I was tired. I was tired of thinking less of myself because others did. People always ask me, ‘You have so much confidence. Where did that come from?’ It came from me. One day I decided that I was beautiful, and so I carried out my life as if I was a beautiful girl. I wear colors that I really like, I wear makeup that makes me feel pretty, and it really helps. It doesn’t have anything to do with how the world perceives you. What matters is what you see. Your body is your temple, it’s your home, and you must decorate it”- Gabourey Sidibe.

A Note To Skinny Girls


You know what I don’t like? When I go shopping, and some snooty little salesperson tells me how good I look in something, when really I just look like a fat lard busting out of the seams. I’d rather just give you a few dollars to be honest with me than to lie to my face and tell me I look good. Like how can I possibly walk around in public when I have fat rolling out of every corner of my body.  Maybe you should go eat a giant bag of mini eggs, and tell me how you feel, while you’re busting out of a size 14 dress that’s two sizes too small. People think it’s crazy, but I would love it if someone told me I looked terrible in something. Like I remember this one time when Donald Chow asked me if I was serious when I busted out by jean shorts. I didn’t see anything wrong with them, but he said that it looked like I was wearing “a jean material bean bag chair” which was “falling off my ass”. I thought I looked good, but I appreciated the criticism. Actually, I’m lying, because I totally yelled at him, and wore the jean shorts anyway.

On another note, Monday, I plan on telling the world exactly how much I weigh…Maybe…depends on my mood