A Little Bit Of Honesty

I guess I haven’t really been honest in a while. I sit and talk about how difficult it is to lose weight, and how the scale hasn’t moved in a while. I also blast people for accusing me of “taking the easy way out” and to be honest, I’ve been using the surgery as the easy way out for the last little while. At the beginning the pounds would just come shedding off, and then I got used to it. The more used to it I got, the less motivation I had to work out, and eat right. Sounds shocking, I know.I guess I’d figured, like most people who know nothing about the surgery, that I didn’t need to eat right or go to the gym.


I stopped posting my monthly weight loss because I’m embarrassed. I stopped posting in general because I haven’t really done anything inspiring or amazing in the last little while. If I’m not honest with myself, then the weight won’t come off! So here’s this weeks honesty:

– I used to do Crossfit once a week. My excuse that I don’t go more is because it’s too expensive. Truth is, I can easily get a membership to Crossfit. If I subtract two monthly meals at restaurants, that pays for the membership

– I hardly go to the gym anymore. I have the membership. My excuse was that I had my puppy, Genius to go home and take care of, however, now that Ronnie Ginger adopted him back from me, I can go to the gym as much as I want whenever I want.

– I eat all day. Grazing is the biggest problem for me. I need something to do that stimulates me. Instead of eating snacks, and nibbling on my fingers, I need to come up with a new activity to keep me from grazing all day. I’m not hungry, I do it out of pure boredom.

From this point on, I will be completely brutally honest. I know that I can lose the last 40 pounds. It’s up to me to get past my stupid excuses and move on from them. Excuses are what made me fat, and what will keep me fat.

I Have Cravings, So What?

Today Barbara Candyland and I were abusing our offices e-mail system when we were talking about things we want to eat. Here is a snippet of what went on this afternoon while our stomachs were eating away at themselves….

From: Me

Subject: Things I want



Cookies and cream chocolate bar


Nachos and cheese


An abundance of sushi


More chocolate



To be skinny


From: Barbara Candyland

Subject: RE:  Things I want


Is that in order? Poutine twice? …things I want.


TCBY with score and smarties

Nachos with cheese and salsa

Cheese and crackers



A veggie burg


More fries

Fried Dumplings with peanut butter sauce


Pad Thai

More nachos

Poutine extra cheese

Ben and jerrys ice cream

Some nuts extra salty

Lettuce wrap


Liquorish red



Chocolate covered almonds

Lobster risotto

A salad

More fries

A cucumber

Yes, this really happened. Barbara is a twig and I hate that she can say things like that and I won’t think of her as a fat person. Ugh, I should hang out with her more often.

Hefty Helga Goes For A Run



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!

Mind of a Fat Girl

I wish that when the doctors did my surgery, along with taking out the 85% of my stomach, they also took the 85% of my brain that makes me think like a fat person. I’m not even hungry, I know I’m not. But I just like the taste of food. I like to wonder what I’m going to eat for each meal of the day, and how it’s going to taste, and how I’m going to make it. While I’m on purees this week, I’m trying to think of different ways I can make it taste better. I’ll have tartare instead of having pureed fish soup; gross.

I’ll go and think like a fat person, and will put something in my mouth, and then my teeny tiny stomach will remind me that I can’t take so much. This whole journey is a huge process to take in, and people don’t seem to understand that I can’t change overnight– I’m talking to you Ronnie. As sick as it is, I still think about what my next meal will be, and what my first meal on solid food will taste like. I want filet mignon, we all know that.

I wish I could start thinking with a healthy brain rather than a fat girl brain. Too bad they haven’t come up with a surgery for that yet.

A Note To Skinny Girls

Hey Skinny Girls,

Are you ready to have a new friend soon? I don’t understand the skinny girls that can go all day just drinking a tea and saying they’re not hungry.  I really thought I was going to pass out yesterday for eating nothing but vomit smelling protein shakes, but I did it. Nine days to go! I hope that when I start losing weight that skinny girls won’t be mad at me for all the horrible things I said about them. I know that I will wear a Canada Goose jacket too, and I’ll be a lot colder next year because I won’t have any layers of fat to protect me. One thing I can promise plump girls everywhere, is that I will not be the type of skinny healthy girl that complains how ugly I feel or how much I really need to lose weight.

So far, on day three of liquid diet, I am four pounds down! Each day I am getting more and more friendly and less like a grumpy hungry girl.

Love Always,

Soon to be skinny healthy girl

Shut Up Food Eaters

This liquid diet sucks. Shut up everyone, telling me it’s the first day to the rest of my life I’m trying to smile but I’m miserable. I am fat, I need food. I have pains in my stomach, and I’m tempted to cut off my tummy and start eating that. I can grill it with some garlic and saltless seasonings, that’s on my diet, right? I know it will be worth it someday, but right now I think I am entitled to be an angry, rude, hungry brat. If you don’t like, don’t read my blog, don’t call me. (I could use a phone call though, I’ve been a little lonely). Also Morris Levinstein says that I should inform everyone of the pain I feel. It feels a little bit like there is a baby porcupine sitting inside my stomach rolling around inside me and poking me. Damn porcupine.

Also, I would appreciate if people around me would stop eating and stop telling me that I should have some cake. DOES IT LOOK LIKE I NEED CAKE? I don’t think I have ever gone this long food-less. I mean, I am proud of myself for making it through 30 hours. I’m hoping I can make it to 264 hours…. that’s all that’s left until the surgery.

F!@# B#$% W#$%



Anybody that knows me, knows that I don’t swear. Not that I don’t swear, I won’t swear. On multiple occasions, my mother has offered me thousands of dollars to say F U C K, and I refuse to.

Maybe it’s because I was traumatized that time I said it at four years old. She warned me that if that word came out of my mouth, then I would get soap in my mouth- HA! Like she would actually put soap in her childs mouth; so I tested her. Two seconds after the F- word came out of my mouth, I found myself at the kitchen sink with a Dove soap bar in my mouth, I’m not sure why, but I decided to bite it ( I was probably hungry). I remember suds coming out of my mouth as the mailman came to the door, and he gave me this strange face. Needless to say, from that day I don’t say the F-word… or B-word, or W-word, or any word. I can spell it… FUCK.