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!!

Fat Girl Problems


 

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Ok, so it’s not like it takes a rocket scientist to get that we all have problems. I like to think of myself as having the worst kind of problems- FAT GIRL PROBLEMS. While some people may think that I’m overreacting, most of us actually have a lot of fat girl problems! 

I figured the easiest way to separate the majority of my issues was by season!

Summer:

1) Getting into strangers/friends/family members car… never fun when you’re wearing short shorts… It happens to me quite often because I’ve got hot legs and I know it. Anyway enough about my gorgeous legs. When summertime comes, I turn into a sweaty whale and my body thinks it’s cool to start sweating like effing Super Aqua Club. Whenever I’m the passenger in someones car, they ALWAYS have leather seats! Why can’t people be cheap and get the fabric seats so I don’t need to show my sweaty butt cheek marks when I leave their car. So not cool. Also, with the sweat thing, sometimes I wish I had no hair. I sweat and my hair always looks wet. I always get the “Oh Hey! You’re doing the wet hair look, so nice” and I’m all like “Oh Hey, You’re doing the I-just-got-out-of-bed look, right?” Don’t be rude people. Fat people sweat, more than others. I’m going for the sweaty hair look by the way.

 

2) Ice cream. I just love ice cream. If I could, I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. To be honest, I’m not so much into the actual ice CREAM part, but I like the yogurt better (I wish it was me being healthy, but it’s actually that the taste is better) I’m not sure if this whole froyo thing is a new thing in Montreal, or if it’s going on everywhere, but anywhere I look, there’s a new frozen yogurt store. Like literally on every corner! Everyone around me is Instagramming their latest cute frozen yogurt inventions with fruit and granola toppings and I’m here like  getting a behemoth sized portion and top it with pop tarts, brownies and high fat sprinkles. But I swear it’s been over a year since I’ve decorated my $20 frozen yogurt like a horse.

Fall:

1) All the skinny girls are wearing Uggs, and I want to wear Uggs too. How is it that after only three months with mine they look like they’ve gone through a hike through the rainforest and I look at everyone else’s and theirs are all nice with no salt stains -and their interior fluff is still nice and fluffy. I don’t know if maybe it’s just me, but I am such a klutz! (For those of you non Jewish term friends of mine, a klutz is a clumsy or stupid person this according to the dictionary, not me.) I always manage to walk into puddles, or wear them on the one day in the fall that it snows and then I get salt stains all over them. Anyway, Uggs last me 6 months, when they last the normal Ugg-Wearer 6 years?

2) In the fall comes Halloween. Halloween is my second least favorite holiday of the year. November 1st is my most hated day of the year. Half Price Candy Day. When all the delicious ungodly Halloween mini treats go on sale. Who even invented the whole knocking on peoples door and getting cute bite-sized candy? Why is Halloween a time when stores become filled with yummy snack sized delicious chocolate bars and candies. It’s like those candies are trying to haunt me and make it a scary Halloween for me- how rude! Just saying!

3) Also, in the fall, right before the ungodly snow comes, I’m in denial about winter coming, so I still stick with my summer wardrobe. Since I sweat like a horse in church, I think it works out perfectly for me and I’m happy about it. I still get stares, but it’s because I’m pretty.

Spring:

I hate spring for one reason, and one reason only. It’s gym season. I am fat. I hate the gym. The gym makes me feel like I am an asthmatic old lady on a treadmill dying a slow and painful death. I can only imagine how special I look when I’m working out. Before I go out in public, I usually make an effort, to put on some makeup, brush my hair, look presentable. When it comes to the gym, it’s just like I didn’t even try, and I’m in there to be miserable! I mean, I know it’s good for me and all, but I just don’t like it. I don’t like running because everything wiggles and jiggles and I just look like I should be in the circus. I will stop being so hard on myself now- If I can like doing one thing at the gym it would be weight lifting. I seriously enjoy doing weights though. I look in the mirror, and I see my exposed collar bones, and my muscles in my arm coming in, and then I’m all like “Ok, I guess I like it”. I guess at the end of the day I can’t really make up my mind about the gym. I love it, but I hate it. It’s good for me, but it’s … good for me.

Winter

1) Ungodly winter. Winters in Canada are not fun. Winters in general are not fun. Unless you’re a snowman and you like to freeze and get frostbites all day, then winter is super fun! As I am still in denial about the seasons changing, I do not dress properly for the winter. I continue to wear leggings, and t-shirts, and see-through blouses. Winter does not look good wardrobe wise. When I actually need to dress for winter, I usually end up wearing capes and moomoos. It’s nothing attractive-trust me.

2) I like to bake. Because I’m hibernating for three months until the spring comes, I take it upon myself to turn into Betty Cocker. I bake everything. I don’t even like sweet foods since surgery, but I just like baking and to see what my delicious treats come out like- and then post a picture on Instagram, because that’s how I roll-obvi! . I don’t like COOKED treats, but I do like to lick the bowls and spoons when I’m done.

3) Winter sucks. I prefer to sweat

 

I could just be a really angry person, or I could just hate all seasons. Either way, I’m Jewish, and still technically obese, so I like to complain and I kinda have a lot of right to.

 

It’s 10:00 AM And I Finished All My Snacks


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Anyone who knows me, knows that I like snacks. I am a snack queen, and I can snack all day. Some may diagnose me with grazing disorder, but I just think of myself as a hungry horse. Kidding, now is not the time to make fun of me, but I do like snacks.

Snacks come in all shapes, forms, tastes, colors and sizes. Due to the fact that my stomach is the size of a banana, large snacks don’t quite do it for me anymore. I have found that apples are not my friend, because they burn going down, and then just sit in my stomach like an unborn apple baby. Carrots aren’t good with me either. I’m mostly good with almonds and cheeses. I love cheese, don’t get me started on cheese. I like all cheese except for the stinky ones. Once it gets too smelly or mushy, it makes me really uncomfortable and I’m just off wanting cheese.

Enough about cheese, and more about me. I don’t know what’s happened, or why it’s happened. If I am bored at work, or if I am just bored in my brain, but when it comes to the morning, I need a snack every 30 minutes. I am always hungry. Of course, once I eat, the feeling goes away… I know all the doctors and nutitionists say that drinking water will make you feel less hungry. Can someone make water taste less boring? For all you nature people who are about to tell me how great water is for you, and all the nutirents blah blah, I already know these things. I’ve been home sick many times this year, and Dr. OZ has told me all about it. Water bores me. It tastes like wet air. When someone forces me to do something, I’ll do the exact opposite. I still haven’t gone back to Diet Pepsi which is my ex bff, but whatever.

Anyway, it’s early, I’m out of snacks, and now I have to deal with it. The vending machine man won’t be back today to feed me treats. I definitely don’t need any more of those.

 

I’m Missing My Chef Hat


There are two things that I really like. Food, and friends. I also really enjoy cooking for friends. Let me get to the point. I like baking. I love standing in my hell hole of a kitchen in my hell hole of an apartment, wearing an apron and chef hat. I bake. I can bake cookies, and muffins, and cakes, and puddings, and everything a fat kid can imagine. I bake deliciously.  When I bake, I feel like a wizard with a caldron. I throw ingredients all over the place, I sing, I splash, I make a mess… I love it! As much as I love the baking process, I don’t  love to eat my baked goods, but I sure do  love to share them. I share them on Instagram and go #hashtag crazy, and I also share them with friends.

I guess in my weight loss journey, if I bake for everyone, and everyone else around me gets a little more juicy and plump, then I’ll look even better even sooner. Calm down everyone, just a joke! I’m losing weight, while baking! Let’s face it, I can’t eat them. As much as I would like to, I am well aware that if I did,  someone would find me shaking on the floor, with my slow beating heat, and chocolate dripping down my face.

Eating cookies and cakes aren’t for me. I enjoy baking, and I find it extremely relaxing. Everyone around me can enjoy my sugary, buttery treats, and I will enjoy my apple.

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Chocolate Cake, Milk Chocolate Icing,  A Crap Ton of M&M’s all surrounded by 12 Kit Kat Bars

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It’s A Girl Cookies! Sugar Cookies. Sugar, Butter (Margarine), Flour, Love, Food Coloring

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Chocolate Cupcakes, Cream Cheese Icing, Sprinkles, Chocolate Chips. Yum .

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Shortbread Cookies With Chocolate Drizzle… low fat chocolate, doesn’t really make a difference at this point.

The Scale: My Hate Relationship


 

 

I’ve stopped my affair with the scale. I don’t understand how one plastic box which displays numbers, can do so much harm! I love that little plastic box, but at the same time I hate it. When my little unpolished toes step on that box of fun, I can’t wait to see the number! Once my eyes set eyes on the scale, and I see that I’ve lost two pounds, my body goes into fat girl mode and decides that it’s time to binge. I know, “two pounds are wonderful, why would you want to sabotage that?”, first of all,  whoever is actually thinking that, you need to seriously shut up- because it’s not like I got on the scale and was all giddy and excited to eat like a fat horse. My plan isn’t to regain everything that I had just lost. I can’t control it. Most of the time when I eat, I’m not hungry. It’s an addiction. Yes, call me crazy, and fat, or just crazy fat but people can be addicted to food! Food is there, so I eat it. You can’t tell an alcohol addicted meth head that they have to stop all their bad habits in an instant. It takes time, and learning. While I know it’s already been seven months since surgery, I still struggle with my addiction, daily. It’s too bad they don’t make rehab for fat people who struggle from food addictions. I strongly believe that people on the outside truly believe that we fat people choose to eat ourselves sick, and to binge eat. It’s not like that, I can promise you that. While I know Hefty Helga has died, part of her still lives on in my mind, and will forever.

It’s so hard to be addicted to something that we are subjected to everyday. We need food to survive, and it’s everywhere I go! No matter how much I try to walk away from food, it surrounds me; whether it comes from passing the vending machine,  or hearing the disgustingly loud people around me chewing like horses etc. I’m supposed to train myself, and to learn that food is for eating, and not an activity to take up when I am bored. Do I really want to be that girl one day who introduces herself and says “Oh Hello, I’m Hillary. Nice to meet you. I’m a professional eater. What do you do?” Like seriously.  As sick as it sounds, sometimes I wish I had another addiction. Maybe being addicted to some of those Breaking Bad drugs wouldn’t be the greatest thing for me, or my teeth, but maybe it would make me forget about food. Food really doesn’t make me feel anything. I used to feel satisfied during and after binge eating, but now I find myself feeling sad, and depressed after I’ve eaten something I know I shouldn’t.

One thing I’ve started doing, is making new friends. I’ve made new friends with my stomach. After I eat something I shouldn’t, I lift up my shirt, and stare at the scars. I look at the scars, which help me in reminding myself how I got here, and what I plan to accomplish. Eating a bag of chips won’t help in shrinking those scars, eating because I’m bored in general won’t help shrink the scars. The only thing that will help shrink the surgery scars, is me. Chips, chocolate, cookies, ice cream etc, are all parts of my life that really have no place there. They are not wanted, and there is no need for it. I’ve told myself so many times; “Eat to live, don’t live to eat”, it’s so easy to say it, but so hard to do.

And for the five hundredth, and hopefully last time, I say this: No More Excuses. I get on the scale, and I be proud that I’ve accomplished a two pound weight loss. I get on that scale, and instead of marching my fat bottom to the fridge, I walk it out the door, and for a walk (not to the ice cream store).

 

A Note To Skinny Parents With Overweight Children


Dear parents of overweight children,

While you may think that telling your plump child not to take a bite of that delicious ice cream cone, I urge you to think about the words that are coming out of your mouth, and the consequences they may hold. I myself came from a place where I was always told no (Mom, I’m not mad at you, don’t take it personally- this is strictly for entertainment purposes, and I love you)

I will do my best to prepare a list of things us plump kids hate the most:

1) Do not, I repeat do not, lift our pants up to our chins, and stretch our shirts down to our knees. While you may think we look absolutely marvelous, and slim, we actually look like moronic buffoons. Pants are supposed to be worn at waist level, not boob level, and unless I’m buying a dress, a shirt should be worn just above my pants, and not down to my knees. If you want us to dress like we belong in the circus for overweight children, please dress us in moomoos and tie dye tights.

2) If I want that cheeseburger, I will eat it. Little Henrietta over there may want to devour a delicious yummy double bacon cheeseburger with extra sauce and more meat- and you should let her. If not, she will go and have ten more when you’re not looking. How would you feel about that one, Mama Josephine?

3) Sprinkles and chocolate chips. You know those build your own sundae places? The ones with chocolate chips and sprinkles and whatever else, oh ya, chocolate sauce, and butterscotch sauce, and sauce in general and more chocolate and stuff.  How come the skinny sibling gets to have as much sprinkles and chocolate chips, and the overweight one gets twelve lousy sprinkles! Share the sprinkles, you sprinkle demon! Sprinkles are just sugar, it’s in your benefit to give your overweight child an abundance of sprinkles. They’ll get really crazy, then really tired, and sleep really well, and like magic– you will have a quiet night. So don’t be so mean, and share the sprinkles.

4) Bathing suit shopping. As much as it hurts to tell your child how bad they look in a bathing suit, let them wear whatever they want. One day they will look back at pictures and say to themselves “what was I thinking”, and then they’ll blame themselves and not you. Also, maybe the kids at the pool will make fun of them, and then they’ll ask you for help in the swimsuit department…better that way actually. Now, today I look back at pictures from when I was twelve and ask myself what I was wearing because I looked like a pregnant child in an eighty year old’s bathing suit.

Let kids be kids, fat or skinny, tall or short. I complain a lot about everything, but that’s because I didn’t get a lot of sprinkles, and never got to wear a bikini.

I’ve done all my complaining for the day

Mr. Sun


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I love to tan. I know it’s not good for me, but it seems like it’s the only thing I do enjoyably that keeps me from running to the kitchen. In the summer, some people think I’m not white anymore, and I like to go by different, more ethnic names, because I’m cool like that. My face, shoulders, arms, legs and back are a dark shade of brown, which I like- because dark is slimming.

However, onto quite an important part of my body- my stomach. My stomach has never seen the light. No really. It’s actually whiter than the inside of an Oreo. When I wear nothing, while looking in a mirror (don’t picture it, sorry) I look like a giant Oreo. Seriously, I wish I could describe it, but I won’t. I think the last, or the only time I wore a bikini was when I was two, and was hanging out with my hot skinny self at the beach in Florida. Anyway, this past weekend, I decided that it was time that I expose this white ball of puff to the sunlight. Within minutes, I was instantly burnt. My stomach was instantly attracted to the sun, like they have never met before and they were soul mates. It was like a kid eating candy for the first time, like a skinny person enjoying deep fried food for the first time. It was magnificent. The shower after, however, was far from magnificent. I know I have dark skin, but I really should have put some type of protection on that white pasty bad boy.

Anyway, if I’m being honest. Seeing me with a half tankini on, probably wasn’t a sight to see. But it felt good knowing that laying down, floating in a pool, with half my fat hanging in the water and making me look half skinny, felt amazing.

I’ll keep floating on… with a higher SPF next time. I want to look like a Fudgee-O by next weekend!