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.


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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My Constant Battle



Obviously with weight loss surgery, comes struggles and battles. Battles such as, losing weight in general, learning to love yourself, making the right choices, not going to restaurants etc. Right now, my biggest battle is dealing with that dreadful question that every person asks me. Showing off my weight loss, and broadcasting it for the world to see, I am clearly asking for questions, and remarks etc, but sometimes, that one question just brings me down.

“How many pounds are you down?”. Why does everyone care about the number of pounds? To be honest, the number of pounds lost, is the least important part of the whole journey. We’re trained to think that the number lost is the most important part of a persons weight loss journey.  If you want to ask important questions, and receive positive replies from me, or anyone losing weight for that matter, you can ask questions like: “do you feel good about yourself?” , “are you happy?” , “do you notice a difference?”, other questions and comments about how great I look and how beautiful I am are really appreciated as well. While my weight loss number may not have changed in the last month, my pant size has decreased, and my confidence level has increased. The scale is an evil tool that really only helps in bringing you down. Why should we care about the number? What’s so important about it? If I’m getting on the scale, and notice that I’ve lost two pounds, I’m going to treat myself, because I’ve lost. Had I not known about this little two pound weight loss, I would have continued on my merry little way and not treat myself to any treats. I’ve gone from the morbidly obese category, to just plain obese. That is HUGE! That’s an accomplishment in itself.

I personally feel that whenever someone asks me how many pounds I lost, I get discouraged. In my mind I think, “only xxx pounds lost in 6 months?, that’s terrible, you could have done so much better”. But I know that when I look at pictures, and when I see myself in the mirror, it’s more than just the number. Muscle weighs more than fat, and if I’m going to the gym 4+ times a week, obviously my weight loss will be less than a person who wouldn’t be working out.

Maybe some people don’t know, maybe it doesn’t bother anyone, but personally I think that this “number” is really an unimportant part of the whole process. I am proud to say that I am happy where I am. I am proud with how far I’ve come, and I’m proud to say that I’ve met my goals. I may be taking my time, but at least I can proudly say that I haven’t gained a single pound in six months!


6 months post op. Side shot.

My New Found Treasure

After shedding a couple of pounds, I’ve found something. I’ve already found my ribs, and my muscles, but today… I found something new and fantastic. I found my voice. Today I learned that no one, not even the rude man that disrespects me daily can take advantage of me. I will not stand for attitude, for dirty looks, or even for snarky remarks. The rude man that barks back at my dog will not get the nice me, the angry metro workers who give me dirty looks will not get the nice me. The people who respect me, and deserve me, will get me. Sorry suckers!

I don’t know where it came from, but this huge, powerful voice came out. To be honest, this is the greatest I’ve felt in a long time. From this day on, I will not let anyone take advantage of me. Treat others the way you want to be treated.

That’s my lesson for today. I’m happy with what I discovered within myself. No matter how weak someone may make you feel, know that you are ten times better than they will ever be.

I have one piece of advice for the rude people out there: I’m rubber, and you’re glue. Whatever mean thing you say to me, bounces off of me and sticks to you.

The Cowntown Is On


I guess starting this new journey in my life is kind of scary for all sorts of reason. What will happen when they cut me open, what will happen if it doesn’t work. My biggest fear at this moment is, how to I be a normal person? What is normal? Every summer my entire life, I’ve spent wearing tummy-taming bubby bathing suits, and moomoos to cover me up from sparing the world from seeing what I’ve got hidden under my long drape-like clothes.  I guess I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to wear a bikini. I want the tan lines, and to feel like the rest of the world. So, I settled for what the fat girls need to settle for when they want to feel cool and want something ending in “kini”– I purchased a tankini When Donald Chow and I first went to Vegas in 2011, he kept laughing, and laughing at the word TANKINI. Who wears a tankini? These were the ugliest things I have ever owned and I don’t think I’ve ever been more uncomfortable. To this day, we still talk about that crazy tankini I wore.

What do normal people wear? What do normal people eat? What do normal people say? I’m 25 years old, and still have the maturity level of a twelve year old (According to Mommy Dearest) . Will that leave me, along with the 80+ pounds I need to lose? Will I change? I’m a funny person. I don’t want to lose my sense of humor. Maybe people find me funny because I’m bigger than everyone else, and louder etc.

I’ve got two weeks to start counting down until I’m lying in that hospital bed. I have been waiting my entire life to feel “normal”. I hope I will still be me. I’ll make my own kind of normal.

On A More Serious Note (Not To Skinny Girls)



I started this blog months ago because I was upset at the way I looked and felt. People told me I was funny, so I kept writing and pretty much laughed at myself for the last two months. I’m not going to lie- my life is pretty damn funny, and I have experienced some crazy stuff during my 25 years on this planet. However, it’s time I come clean. Nine months ago I decided that I’ve finally had enough with the way I looked. I was tired of trying new diets, getting on the scale and being disappointed, and overall just hating the person I was. I decided that after trying Weight Watchers, NutriSystem, Slim Fast, Fat Camp that there was no other option for me but weight loss surgery. I did my research thoroughly and finally decided to do the Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy surgery. In simple terms, this surgery  means the doctors cut out 75% of my stomach and take out the hormone which makes me hungry.  I never thought that I was heavy enough to be eligible for any type of weight loss surgery, however, to my surprise I was. I had eaten my way half to death.

Last week I got the phone call that I had been waiting months for. Even though the nice nurse advised me that the waiting period could be anywhere from 5-7 years, I got the phone call only nine months after sending in my application. I sat at my desk at work crying hysterically where coworkers around me thought someone had died. I was excited and nervous at the same time, and couldn’t believe I was fortunate enough to get this surgery. My life was about to change forever.

I’m not one of those people who will suddenly lose weight and then lie about it and say I lost it by eating such tiny portions. A heavy person does not overnight, simply start eating bird sized portions. It just doesn’t happen. I’m getting this surgery. I’m starting fresh.

I thank my family, and close friends and Donald and Marg for being so supportive of my decision.

February 4th is the big day.

A Note To Skinny Girls



Dear Skinny Girls,

I’m sorry that I’m mean to you and say mean things. I’m sorry that I say things that hurt your feelings. You just got blessed with the lucky genes, and my mother married a ferocious beast who was a jolly giant, and I got his genes. I shouldn’t be taking my problems out on you. You are all nice people. Well most of you- except for the ones that complain that they’re ten pounds too heavy while they’re eating a super bacon deluxe cheeseburger supreme. Anyway, I’m sure one day I will grow out of this 25 year fad, and become the skinny, healthy princess I have always wanted to be. All my fairytale dreams will come true, and I will live in fairytale land with my fairytale husband, and kids and mansion and fairytale chocolate fountain.

This year will be my year, and I know that I am ready to accomplish anything when it comes to my weight loss. I will sit with the skinny girls at lunch and complain about how fat I am, and I will love it.



Fat girl for now.