Bread….Warm Buttery Bread


bread

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.

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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!

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!!

A Note To Loud Chewers


Dear Loud Chewers of the world,

It’s time I come clean, and stop sitting here in silence and taking this abuse…I’m still not over the whole chewing with your mouth open thing. It’s really bothering me, and has been for the last 25 years of my life. Why is it necessary to chew like a horse, breathe like a behemoth and lick your fingers like curly sue? Actually, you don’t sound or look like curly sue, just a buffalo who’s hungry and has resorted to eating fingers. It’s so ugly! Was I the only one that was brought up to chew quietly and normally. I am not interested in hearing what your loud mouth has to offer. I also, don’t like when you spit your food on me. It’s rude, and impolite, and you should not be marching over to me with a buffet of food in your mouth. I like Niagra Falls, not Foodagra Falls, thank you very much.

If my mom taught me how to chew properly, then you can do it too. I will be giving tutorials, at a low rate of $5 an hour. It’s called Hillarys-School-Of-Learning-To-Chew-With-Your-Gross-Mouth-Closed-School-Of-Etiquette.

Thanks so much, and have a lovely day.

Goodbye.

Chew With Your Mouth Closed


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I have problems. Probably more than most people do. But I can admit it. I dislike a lot of things, and I dislike a lot of people. When something bothers me, I will usually not say anything, but when it comes to this one particular thing, I just lose it.

This one thing that bothers me more than mice in my house, is people who chew with their mouths open. This trait is disgusting and sometimes makes me want to strangle people, stick my fingers down their throat, and remove the food. People who chew like disgusting cows should have no privilege  of eating crunchy, or noisy food. If you were raised by wolves, and plan on chewing with your mouth open, I suggest that instead of masticating this like a pig, you stick your filet Mignon leftovers, and crackers  in the blender, and suck it out of a straw. How do people even learn such disgusting qualities?

Say a little boy named Mervin has a problem closing his mouth when he eats. You would think that if everyone around him is putting headphones on, and blocks their ears, and runs away from him in the schoolyard, whenever he takes out his breakfast,lunch and snack, he would realize that perhaps he has a chewing problem. It’s not like Mervin has abnormally large cheeks or anything. It’s not like he’s missing teeth. He is just an ordinary individual who does not have manners.  Even a giraffe missing half their teeth can eat better than him. Maybe Mervin and his classmates should take a group field trip to the zoo so the baby llama can teach the class how to eat properly.

Also, gum chewing. Why can’t anyone just close their mouth when they chew gum. Is it like your teeth are on a mission to kill the gum? Gum is not a living thing. Close your mouth, enjoy the taste, swish it around. Do not crack, pop, chew, breathe loudly. I must sound crazy, or just no one has seen Princess Diaries and knows how to act with proper etiquette?

To sum this up, nobody wants to hear what you’re eating or chewing. When you eat, your mouth is supposed to be closed. If you feel like you cannot close your mouth, I suggest, you walk your little tush over to a public washroom, close the door to a stall and eat your lunch in there. Nobody likes the sound of food mushing around inside someones mouth. No one. I have a copy of the Princess Diaries if anyone would like some reminders on how to eat. You are not a barn yard animal, you are a human- act like it!

So, the moral of the story is, there is no moral. Just close your mouth.