Mirror Mirror On The Wall


I don’t have control. I cannot stop myself from doing anything. I have a highly addictive personality. Since giving up food, I have become obsessed with scratch cards. I sit at home like a sad old cat lady and scratch cards and play on my TV dinner table, while I pet my dog. This happens every weeknight. Today I bought lunch, and while I tried to eat as much as I could, I found myself ready to puke in my bowl. Why was I trying to do this to myself? Why was I trying to fill up my pouch to its full capacity? Why am I trying to sabotage something, when I worked so hard to get it in the first place? I’m not trying to do these things, it’s all subconscious, but I need to take responsibility for my actions. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you had weight loss surgery, sometimes it’s easy to fall head over heels in love with your food, and want to shovel it down until you feel sick. Sometimes, though, it goes too far.

Mothers, dentists, doctors, turn away because you’re not going to want to hear what’s coming next. I have made myself so sick to the point that I throw up. Regularly. My teeth have begun to rot, and are now turning black and have stain all over them. Sometimes I need to stop and ask myself if the food is really worth it? Is the food really worth my gorgeous $4000 smile?  Is the food really worth my life. I need to put down the fork and tell myself enough is enough.

I like food. Food is fun. Food is not my friend. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve told myself that food is not the enemy, and that we need food to live not live to eat food. I can tell myself that crap over and over again, but it still won’t change my old habits.

The only thing that actually helps me is looking in the mirror, and noticing a difference, and being able to walk up the stairs and not be out of breath, to take Genius for a walk and want to go for a thirty minute walk, instead of a thirty second walk. When I can complete a class of Crossfit, I want to continue putting down the fork at the right time,  I want to look in the mirror and feel confident.

No Pain, No Gain (Well, Hopefully No Weight Gain)


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So, I know I said I was all for going to the gym. However, the fact that my legs feel like I got attacked by an obese baby elephant, isn’t exactly making me want to go to the gym anymore. I get up from my desk at work looking like I have a bowling ball shoved up my butt and I am constantly getting stares. It’s cool, while you were sitting on your couch watching TV, I was out getting my ass kicked in Crossfit. Anyway, I decided that I will not go to the gym tonight. I physically cannot move, no, like actually. I cannot move. I need to be wheeled around, because otherwise my spaghetti legs will give out on me and I will be on the floor within seconds.  I really don’t want to injure myself so that I won’t go to the gym for another month after. I’m being proactive; let’s just go with that.

As much as I hate this pain, and as much as I want to slice my legs off myself, I know that in the end, I will have hotter legs than anyone else out there, and I ultimately don’t want to get rid of them, because that’s always been the one “skinny” thing about me. This excruciating pain is magnificent and I never thought I would say this, but I kind of LOVE it. I just keep thinking back to what I did. I did those gym classes that you see those crazy fit weight lifters doing on YouTube, I am so proud of myself. Fat Hillary would have never done anything like that. Well, she would have watched the YouTube videos while eating a bag of chips, but that’s about it.

I’m contemplating putting an ad on Craigslist right now for someone to come over and rub my thighs.

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

Nothing Fits Me


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Remember in Mean Girls, when nothing fit Regina because she was like so fat? Well, the opposite has happened to me HALLELUJAH!!!  I tried on a pair of my old jeans today, and I was swimming in them. The hoarder in me wants to keep them, because they’re brand name, but the smart girl in me is telling me that it’s best to get rid of them, because I never want to be that size again. So like, I’m in a really tough place right now. Also, I haven’t been able to see the floor of my closet since I moved into my own apartment in November; maybe I should reconsider throwing out all of my fat clothes. Someone help me!!!!

For the last month, I’ve been living off leggings. The same thing I was wearing each and everyday when I was a Hefty Helga. Not to sound crazy cocky or anything, but I have amazing legs, and leggings just happen to show off the one thing that I’ve got! 

I currently work in the fashion industry with people who are toothpick thin, I don’t hate them for it, I totally genuinely like them! Anyway, today, a miracle happened. I purchased the cool pants that EVERYONE in the office is wearing. I really feel like things are looking up, and changing for me. Also, might I add that they are a SIZE 30! I’m not wearing them like normal people do, at their waists, I’m only wearing them underneath my gluge, tire, stomach – whatever you want to call it, but I call it gluge. But, they still go up, and they fit. While trying my awesome pants  on with Lucinda  and Lolo Returners this afternoon, they both looked at me puzzled, and asked why I put my pants on without undoing the zipper and the button? I thought to myself “this is a strange question to ask, isn’t this the way pants are supposed to be put on?”. I realized, that my entire life, jeans have been a struggle and I’ve never been able to zip them up without doing the squiggly wiggly worm dance. I guess now, that I’m halfway to my goal weight, I can start zipping up pants like a normal young lady.

Hefty Helga Goes For A Run


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Yesterday, I decided to play a sick April Fools joke on myself, and start exercising for the first time since last year. I thought it would be a good idea to get my lazy boney butt off the couch and get ready for a serious workout. Before I continue, I must reiterate that my last workout was in November of 2012. So I get my cool super tight pants on, a loose shirt and a headband to make me look ultra sporty. I grab my gym membership and RUN out the door to get to the gym. When I get to the gym, my fat, sweaty hand touches the door handle to walk in to the 7:00pm Zumba class, and I’m having a really hard time opening the door. “Helga, you idiot” I say to myself, the gym is closed! Now, Helga would have normally taken this opportunity to stop at every fast food joint on the way home to get a little taste test of everything going on in the city. But Healthier me said, let’s go for a run! I started running, and really struggling, but I kept going, and when the streets staring going uphill, I  promised myself that I wouldn’t stop. I kept running, and running, and thirty minutes later, I reached my house.

I don’t care who saw me, or how bad I looked. All I know is that I got a great workout. My arms were flailing everywhere, my shirt kept lifting up and everyone was able to see my tire, and I probably sounded like a dying seal with every loud thumping sprint I made, but either way, I was still proud.

I got home, and had to take a breather. Literally, I needed to breathe, because I was having an asthma attack. I called Ronnie, she just laughed and told me she was proud of me for running and that I would be fine. I tried to call Donald, but he was out with Mr and Mrs. Cho Sr. for dinner, probably eating some yummy food that I was probably upset I didn’t get to have. I started wheezing and tried to make music with it. Literally, I sang row row row your boat with my wheezes, it was very instrumental and a moving piece.  I thought ice cream might help, but it didn’t, and then a shower, but that didn’t help either. I was all out of asthma pumps, and I was lying in bed like a lonely soul making seal sounds with my failing lungs.

I’m all better now, and I have this crazy burst of energy to go out and do something fun! Gym only opens tomorrow, so I guess it’s another Richard Simmons night for me tonight!

Put It Down Fat Girl


My gym membership finally came back into effect today. YAY! Not. What a sick April Fools joke.   Fat girl inside me still feels lazy and doesn’t want to go. I know I have to, but I don’t want to. But I need to, because I don’t want flabby skin forever. Once I go, I know I’ll get all this crazy energy, and want to go all the time. I’m kind of also excited that I’ll get to be one of the “normal sized” people in class. I think I’ll be able to last a lot longer in class and won’t come up with as many excuses to not go to classes. Speaking of fat girl, let’s give her a name; how about Hefty Helga. It’s not nice to just call her fat girl, right?

This weekend, after some much needed alone time, I found myself looking in the fridge; saying hello to snacks and ice creams. As I pick up a spoon to eat my delicious looking ice cream frozen yogurt,I look down at my jumbotron stomach, and say “put it down fat girl”. Healthier Hillary decided that it would be the right thing to put the ice cream weapon down and take advantage of this time to herself. I got this sudden burst of energy, and moved all my furniture to one end of my apartment. I put on some running shoes, a large sweatband and turn on a Richard Simmons tape. Thirty minutes of Sweatin’ To The Oldies later, I look over out my window, and I notice this nice but creepy rapist-looking fellow staring at me, you know the kind with like the creepy moustache and the big rapist glasses? (I’m sure his name was Raymond or something creepy like that). It was way creepy and I should totally invest in some blinds.  I still don’t know whether I should take Raymonds intense gaze as a compliment or as a totally creepy gesture. Either way, is it wrong if I said I liked it?

Also, this weekend, I found my two favorite chocolate bars together to make one delicious mouth watering treat. DAIRY MILK BUBBLE BARS. I almost peed myself when I saw this. I went to the store and started sniffing the packaging. I will admit I got a few stares, but so what? I realized how much of a douche I looked like, and yelled at Helga to put it down. I don’t need you chocolate, we’re over.

The scale was nice to me the next morning, so I think Ricky Simmons and I are going to be best friends. My new weight loss trick is to stick a picture of Hefty Helga on the fridge. Every time I go to grab a treat, I’ll be reminded of how I don’t want to be that girl anymore.

Cake Cake Cake


I cheated. I’m a big fat cheater. I feel terrible, and now I just want to curl up into a little ball and die in Carrot Caramel Cheesecake Heaven. The lovely 105 pound, Lexi Diggs is working so quietly at her desk with a beautiful piece of Carrot Caramel Cheesecake just staring at her in the face. She literally had this cake sitting on her desk and hadn’t taken a bite out of it. I had walked by about four times to see if she had taken a bite out of it, and nothing had been eaten. If that was me, that bad boy would have done some Houdini magic and that beautiful piece of cake would have disappeared in seconds!

I decided that I would be Fat Hillary and decided to walk over and ask if I could just simply smell her cake. She ever so nicely offered to give me the rest of it, and the skinny girl in me politely said “no thank you”. She persisted, and so, I took it. I took this piece of magnificent art to my desk and began smelling it, then I poked it, and then licked it. I took one bite, and I was hooked, so hooked in fact that I couldn’t quite keep my hands off it.  It was like the Brad Pitt of cakes. I took one fat girl bite and then another. Skinny girl butted in, in the middle of my cake eating binge and then, with food all over my face, sitting in a quiet office, I screamed at myself “NO FAT GIRL, PUT THAT CAKE DOWN”. I poured my Crystal Light all over the cake art and threw it in the garbage.

I think it’s good to be able to taste a little bit of everything, but not get too carried away. I mean, I’m a pro at getting carried away, how do you think I got this way? I think being able to take a bite, and then walk away without finishing the cake makes me stronger than I ever was.

Food is not the enemy, it’s just, well food isn’t your friend, but they’re not the enemy.