Everything Is Bad For Me


My life has been spectacular these last couple of weeks! Donald and I took a vacation to Florida two weeks ago. I’m now black, and I must say, it’s extremely slimming. It sucks though because I know I can’t tan every day. I mean, I could always try and find a job selling beach chairs and digging umbrellas in the sand on some private island for fancy tourists, but that’s manual labor, and manual labor and I don’t really mix well together.

Why is it that everything I like doing is bad for me? Food makes me fat, suntanning with oil and Coca-Cola all over my body will cause skin cancer. It’s like I don’t like anything that’s good for me…except pickles. Pickles are amazing snacks.. but now that I think of it, I think they’re really high in sodium and probably bad for me too. So, my weight loss stall has stopped, and things are moving again! In this last month, I have gone down like three cheek sizes on my face, and lost another chin. Ronnie Ginger, my non-abusive-very-loving-but-extremely-critical-mother finally notices a change and tells me every time she sees me that I’m changing and that I’m so pretty! I’ve been talking to myself a lot lately. I remind myself that the candies which are at me straight in the face are dumb and will make my teeth yellow and stomach fat. Now, when I sit in the car, my stomach doesn’t really go anywhere near the steering wheel for the first time in a long time I could see more toes than ever when I look down! I’ve also banned myself from the scale. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m afraid to see what the number is, or because if I get on the scale and lose, I know I’ll treat myself to a cheat day, that will turn into a cheat week, that will turn into fat cheeks and a triple chin. Either way, I know that the scale is not my friend and the only person that can weigh me is my doctor. The scale is evil, not nice.

Life is good, things are looking up, and the scale is going down!

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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


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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!

 

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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.

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Honesty: I Gained Weight


I strongly believe that the only way you can truly fix mistakes, is by being honest. It’s quite obvious that something is wrong with me, as I went from blogging everyday, to blogging once every twelve days. I pretty much went into hiding because truthfully, I’m not happy. For the last couple of months, I’ve been in a sad, dark place  because I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I feel like I let my doctor down, like I left my family and friends down, and that I’ve let most importantly, myself down.

So, on that note, it’s time that I come clean. I gained weight. Not a ton, not anything huge, but to me, even a pound is huge. I put on eight pounds since July of last year. Obviously I haven’t been 100% because otherwise I would have been in a bikini by now. Literally, I would have been wearing bikinis everyday to work, even in this horrible winter weather. Honestly, I have no one to blame but myself. I obviously did this to myself. I figured I could hide it, and just keep it to myself, and no one would say anything to me about. It’s kind of funny actually, people don’t really need to say anything to me, just the glance, and the disappointment in their face is all I really need to know that I have screwed this thing up. When people look down at my stomach and say things like “Oh, how’s it going? How much do you weigh now?” or “I know 5 people who have had the surgery and they lost all their weight faster than you, I’m not sure why it’s not working for you”, I get it. I don’t need to be reminded.  I look in the mirror at myself everyday and know that I am fat, and I know that I have let everyone down.

The people that don’t want me to succeed and always have something negative to say about my weight loss, are going to love reading this, but the people that really matter, are going to support me, and love me and know how hard it was for me to say that I gained eight pounds. I think the more I say it, the more real it is, and the more of a wake up call it is for me to do something about this. This surgery is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I can’t screw this up like I’ve screwed up everything else. I literally have had my insides cut up and removed. People save up money and go into debt for surgeries like this. I’m just taking my time and eating things that I know I shouldn’t be eating. It’s so easy for me to tell other people what they should and shouldn’t eat, and then I go shove my face with mini eggs because they’re so damn delicious? Those damn mini eggs are going to kill me if I don’t just shove a carrot in my mouth and move on already!

So on a positive, and moving forward note, I actually wrote all my food down for two weeks, even the french fries, I wrote it all down. Everything was in my little Weight Watchers book, and just by logging my food, I was able to lose two pounds by my second weigh in at the doctors (2 weeks).  I’m so incredibly proud of myself, and I am making a promise to myself, and to the rest of the world; to everyone reading this and supporting me, and helping me, that I will take this seriously from this point on. I didn’t go through surgery, and intense pain to get fat again. This is not the life I want.

So now, I am officially up six pounds from my lowest weight last July. Instead of working on big goals, like saying I want to lose 40 pounds by May 1, I want to lose 7 pounds by my next doctors appointment, on April 28. I will take any and all positive encouragement I can get. Nasty comments and looks really don’t help me, in fact they only bring me down.

Here’s to being honest, and here’s to getting back to my adventure! 

 

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Guilt Free Dinners


So, as it is quite obvious, Donald and I love to eat. Maybe not Donald, I should just speak for myself-but I love to eat. Recently, I noticed that every morning, I would wake up, and feel especially heavy. I didn’t know what it was. I decided that maybe Donald and I should stop eating carbs at night to see what happens. I tried it out, and I think it worked..I mean, I’m still fat, so I still feel heavy when I wake up, but not as much as I did before. There have been so many healthy alternatives, and to be honest, I really feel like I’m one of those California moms who makes those green healthy choices. I feel like I should go out and buy myself a prius now!

There have been such amazing healthy alternatives! Instead of mashed potatoes, we do my all time new favorite, of cauliflower mashed patates… SO GOOD! It tastes just like the real thing. Except I made it for the first time three weeks ago, and I used three gloves of garlic, and I swear I could have murdered someone with my death breath.Pasta is always fun, but sometimes it gets boring and fills you up and you’re not really satisfied. I am in love with spaghetti squash. Not sure what it is. They’re like really crunchy noodles that are easy to slurp. It’s also fun when there’s no pots and pans to clean up so that’s a big plus! I also use quinoa instead of rice now. I like quinoa because it’s really fun and tasty and I also find them quite interesting. They’re grains, and extra grainy and so the little pieces get stuck in my mouth and I have desert for later. (Don’t judge, I’m not the only one out there). We’re also all about really spicy food now! I will drench everything I have in hot sauce and chili peppers. I’m not sure if this is a fact, or a made up thought in my crazy head, but I strongly believe that if I burn my insides with spicy foods, then I am also burning the fat and the food is just burning right through me. I’m not a doctor, or a cook, so I really don’t know, but you can trust me!

I’ve decided to share my cauliflower mashed potato recipe for people that want to be healthy and have stinky breath!

– 1 giant head of cauliflower

– 2 gloves of garlic (if you want to go crazy, and planning on being alone, use 3)
– 1/2 small white onion

– salt and pepper

– teensy bit of margarine

– splash of milk (I use skim because it’s the right thing to do)

Boil your cauliflower, make sure it’s mushy. Once it’s fully cooked and the water has spilled over and made a mess all over your brand new stove, take all the water out and put all the ingredients into a food processor. You can use a blender but then it gets messy and it doesn’t always cut the small pieces, and it’s just a pain in the a-s-s. Once you mix it all together, put it on your plate, and enjoy! Voila! Guilt free mashed potatoes.

For more recipes, check out my Instagram, I love taking pictures of my food!

Happy Surgaversary To Me!


One year ago today, at this very moment, my life changed forever. I distinctly remember driving to the hospital, worrying why I wasn’t worried. I was hungry as I hadn’t eaten any solid food two weeks prior; maybe that’s why my stomach was rumbling. The admitting department at the hospital took me in so quickly, I didn’t even have enough time to hug Donald or my Mama Ronnie Ginger. The next thing I know, I’m sitting in some room with a man telling me I’m not fat and I don’t need this surgery. He also told me to get undressed into a robe and throw all my clothes into a garbage bag, how demanding, I’m not that easy– I momentarily thought I was in prison. After getting undressed, sitting on a hospital chair half naked, and waiting in a  waiting room with terrible magazines, for what felt like an eternity. The friendly nurse in a Caribbean accent yelled my name and told me to follow her. I was so excited because it was finally happening, my life was about to change. I was so eager to wear my shower cap and slippers, but truthfully, I just wanted to hug my mommy. I was sitting in a hallway, waiting and waiting for someone to tell me what was going to happen next. All of a sudden, an overweight man gets wheeled out of the room I was about to go into. I immediately hopped out of the bed they had placed me in, and began to have second thoughts about what I was doing. Just as I was ready to leave the bed, Dr. McDreamy came over, and told me I had nothing to worry about and that he was going to go eat something; I would have offered to join him, but given my current situation, I guess it’s best I didn’t invite myself.

So I get wheeled into the room, and all I see are these big huge lights everywhere, and TV monitors, and I really felt like I was on a terrible episode of some Hospital TV Drama. Some dude out of nowhere pops his head up, and I hear him say “ready for the Propofol now…”, I respond with “Isn’t that how Michael Jackson died?”…and then I woke up. Apparently after they injected me with this marvelous sleeping aid, I fell asleep for what felt like five minutes, and they removed my beloved stomach. Well they left me with 25% of it. The only thing I remember after that is being so thirsty and wanting to burp. I asked everyone around me to burp me because I couldn’t breathe. I was the worst patient ever, and to this day I can’t believe I acted like a wild rabid goose. Fun fact, when I got wheeled into my gorgeous studio hospital suite, I was greeted by my lovely mother videotaping the entire grand entrance. Since I was too incompetent to speak a full sentence, I just yelled at her like a fat horse and told her to stop it. She then told me I act like my grandmother, and I then politely made her leave my room. How rude.

Fastforward one year, and this has been the craziest, most extreme life change I have ever gone through. I have become a different person both physically and emotionally. I’ve found a new found confidence in myself, and I’ve also found a voice for myself. I never thought the day would come when I would say that I love myself and that I’m so proud of what I’ve accomplished. While I’m only halfway there, I’m still proud of myself that I was able to get here. I still have another forty more pounds to go, and I am proud of myself. I don’t compare myself to others in my situation, because everyone is different. I’ve learned to not let the little things people say get to me, and I’m really happy with that. Letting people out of my life has been a breeze, and I don’t hold on to the little things anymore. Of course I have my bad days, and I slip up, but I know that my journey isn’t done. While some people might say that I haven’t lost enough, or I’m not where I should be compared to other people, every persons body is different, and reacts to the surgery differently. Also, just another fun fact, losing the weight slower will help me in keeping it off for good. If I lost it all in five months, I know it’s easier to gain them back after, so thanks k bye. It’s really hard to say goodbye to something you love, in this case, I had to say goodbye to food. Food was just something that was always there, and always able to keep me company, and not something that ever did any good for me.

I’m eating to live now, not living to eat.

My weight loss struggle/story/battle/life is not over, and it never will be. I’m proud of who I am, and how far I have come. I know I have a lot more to go, but with the encouragement of my friends and family, and the pretty girl I see in the mirror, I know I can accomplish anything.

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Get Me To ONEDERLAND!


It’s been one year since I walked into my doctors office and picked up my nasty two week liquid diet. I was the unhappiest, grouchiest fat girl, and all I wanted was a double bacon cheeseburger. Those were possibly the worst two weeks of my life, because I have never depended on food. Fat Girl Problems, I guess?  I’ve been a little absent this 2014. Truthfully it’s because I’m in a deep deep state of depression. I get that I am pretty, and god only made me fat so that I wouldn’t have it all and make the skinnies jealous. No one can have it all… I’ve been the same weight for the last 5 months and can’t seem to move the scale into onederland. (Onederland is when an overweight person gets out of the ungodly 200 pounds and into the 100’s).

I have never felt more pretty, or better about myself. I fit into a size 31 jeans, I like to look in the mirror and I am comfortable in tight shirts. I’ve given up on leggings and I actually wear things that have zippers and are form fitting. But the scale is my enemy, and I say it everyday. It’s like the number 2 wants to marry me and won’t go away. Doesn’t it understand that nobody likes that number? If I just saw that 1, I know that it would be totally different and I would be motivated to loose the rest of it. I look at old pictures, and I think to myself how did I let myself get that big, I was so unhappy. When I look at the scale, and nothing happens, I get depressed and just feel like I’m going back to that bad bad place- I don’t know what’s going on!

If anyone wants to say nice things to me now to motivate me, now would be the time.

Xo,

200 pounds.

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