She’s Just Pleasantly Complaining


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I wish I understood why some people “absolutely love to work out”. Like seriously, for you people that love the brutal pain that comes with it everyday, I have a lot of questions for you. Let’s sit down and talk about it over a large bowl of chocolate brownie ice cream with whipped cream, k thanks. Last night, I went in for my weekly crossfit routine. Ugh, just thinking about it just gives me the chills. My Crossfit boyfriend (well he’s not really my boyfriend, we just have a secret love affair that no one knows about. Except it’s not really a love affair, he just pushes me to work out, and I really like the positive encouragement) is super nice to me, and really pushes me to work out as best I can. Celeste and I really get a kick out of it when he mentions that it’s not a squat unless it’s “ASS TO MAT!”. Ugh, I’m getting the chills again just thinking about last night– not in a good way. After I left class yesterday, I was so happy that I had accomplished it. Walking up the stairs was quite the challenge, but I thought that it would get better. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

So here it goes, if you will not attend an ice cream binge session with me,  I have a lot of questions for you, Gym Mice…

1) Do you like not being able to sit down on a toilet regularly? Like does it feel good when you need to hold on to the walls, and sit down slowly like you’re about to lose your legs?

2) Do you sometimes fantasize about cutting off your legs? I do. Like today. Everytime I get up, I walk like there’s a dead cat up my bum.

3) Is it normal to sweat from parts of my body that I didn’t know existed? I have found new places on my body that are very new to me. In those places, I find puddles of sweat, hope this is normal, because to be honest, I’m really not in the mood to wait in my doctors waiting room again.

Now, I know that working out is fantastic, and it really helps with the weight loss journey, HOWEVER, these three questions are specifically directed at the people who like to be in daily pain! I’m just a confuzzled ball of fat, so can someone please answer my three teeny tiny questions?

Above, was the angry fat girl complaining. Now, the healthier me is talking and damn I hate that pain but I know it’s worth it in the end. I wish I could go to Crossfit every day, but like you know, I’m not Bill Gates or anything. I’ve decided that I will start a charity for the poor, and unhealthy like me. Donations for Crossfit For The Pleasantly Plump and Pleasantly Poor , can be sent directly to me.

Chew With Your Mouth Closed


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I have problems. Probably more than most people do. But I can admit it. I dislike a lot of things, and I dislike a lot of people. When something bothers me, I will usually not say anything, but when it comes to this one particular thing, I just lose it.

This one thing that bothers me more than mice in my house, is people who chew with their mouths open. This trait is disgusting and sometimes makes me want to strangle people, stick my fingers down their throat, and remove the food. People who chew like disgusting cows should have no privilege  of eating crunchy, or noisy food. If you were raised by wolves, and plan on chewing with your mouth open, I suggest that instead of masticating this like a pig, you stick your filet Mignon leftovers, and crackers  in the blender, and suck it out of a straw. How do people even learn such disgusting qualities?

Say a little boy named Mervin has a problem closing his mouth when he eats. You would think that if everyone around him is putting headphones on, and blocks their ears, and runs away from him in the schoolyard, whenever he takes out his breakfast,lunch and snack, he would realize that perhaps he has a chewing problem. It’s not like Mervin has abnormally large cheeks or anything. It’s not like he’s missing teeth. He is just an ordinary individual who does not have manners.  Even a giraffe missing half their teeth can eat better than him. Maybe Mervin and his classmates should take a group field trip to the zoo so the baby llama can teach the class how to eat properly.

Also, gum chewing. Why can’t anyone just close their mouth when they chew gum. Is it like your teeth are on a mission to kill the gum? Gum is not a living thing. Close your mouth, enjoy the taste, swish it around. Do not crack, pop, chew, breathe loudly. I must sound crazy, or just no one has seen Princess Diaries and knows how to act with proper etiquette?

To sum this up, nobody wants to hear what you’re eating or chewing. When you eat, your mouth is supposed to be closed. If you feel like you cannot close your mouth, I suggest, you walk your little tush over to a public washroom, close the door to a stall and eat your lunch in there. Nobody likes the sound of food mushing around inside someones mouth. No one. I have a copy of the Princess Diaries if anyone would like some reminders on how to eat. You are not a barn yard animal, you are a human- act like it!

So, the moral of the story is, there is no moral. Just close your mouth.

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.

Crossfit Is Not The Devil


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Mondays are the days that Celeste and I visit Crossfit together. Walking into class, I was reminded of my terrible past as a child, while seeing grown adults sweat and struggle, hanging on bars. This reminded me of the days when all the other kids were doing the monkey bars and I would just sit there patiently and wonder what it would be like to hang from this metal structure. I was never able to fully get myself up there, or hold myself up for that matter. I had all these friends who were able to do baby Yoga while hanging on one leg; their parents must have been creepy old gymnast people I guess.

Actually, now that I think about it, Crossfit is all about being up bad childhood pasts. Like every time before class, I need to do 300 skips with a skipping rope. I don’t do skipping rope, ok? I look over to the side and there’s this beast-looking-woman skipping away, not breaking a sweat like she has absolutely no care in the world. She needs friends. I got off topic, I was talking about my childhood… I remember in elementary school there was this game; “Cinderella, Cinderella dressed in yellow.. ” whatever, I think Cinderella died at the end of that song. However, I don’t remember,  I never made it to the end of the song, because I was always disqualified for tripping on the jump rope. Kids were mean.

There are these big oversized, scary looking ropes that hang in the gym. These really intimidate me, and I hope that one day I will never have to go up them. I remember in elementary school there was this girl who was able to climb up the rope in 0.2 seconds, and I was still at the bottom struggling to even get off the ground. I never want to use the ropes, ropes aren’t for fun. Why don’t we just use the stairs?

As scared as I may be of Crossfit, it’s also the greatest workout of my life, I have never pushed myself so hard, I always have a good time, except yesterday, the trainer was eating something delicious while we were working our asses off, how rude. Celeste and I purchased another 10 classes. Here we go again!

I’m A Secret Chef


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I’ve always wanted to be a chef. Sometimes I see myself in the kitchen, and I want to wear a chef hat  and apron, and I want to sprinkle a dash of salt on things and yell at my sous chef. (Which I don’t have, but I can dream, right?). Needless to say, I am not a chef, however, in the past I have made some lovely culinary experiments.

I’m about to get nasty. Like seriously nasty. While making my delicious dinner last night, I was thinking about all the disgusting concoctions Not Healthy Hillary would make. Seriously, now that I think of these things, it’s utterly disgusting and I had some serious issues.

Cheesy Potatoes:

Not as appetizing as you may think. I took a potato, raw. Sliced in half and microwaved it until the potato exploded into a million pieces all over the microwave. Once mushy, I then took some margarine. Well not some, a lot, and smeared it all over the potato. Once melted, I then took two pieces of Kraft cheese, put that hot potato back in the microwave and then took it out when it was nice and gooey. Best eaten while sitting under your desk in your room so no one can find you.

Cheerio Mush:

Just as disgusting as it sounds. Yup, you heard it here first. I would take Cheerios, then peanut butter. Mush them together and then I would have Cheerio Mush! Much messier than regular cereal, and also super fattening because I decided to use Honey Nut Cheerios, and not just the regular healthy one. 

Ramen Noodle Surprise:

I love Ramen noodles. They’re best served soggy, or even dry, but they’re all around just a delicious snack. I would take Ramen Noodles and then mix them with Soya Sauce, and mix some scrambled egg in there and some chicken. It was kind of like Chicken Fried Rice, minus the rice, plus the noodles.

Chef Boyardee:

No real description needed here. Chef Boyardee Jumbo Ravioli was the best and a fat girls favorite! I would eat this straight out of the can. When it’s hot, it’s just plain nasty. Ew

Grilled Cheese Supreme:

While most people use two pieces of bread to make grilled cheese, I liked to use three, and about half a container of margarine. I would spread that bad boy margarine on each side of my bread, and take two pieces of Kraft Cheese and put it between three slices of bread. Yes, THREE. So good, so carbfully delicious. Now that I think about that one though, kind of makes me sick to my stomach.

Extra Cheesy Doritos:
Doritos. Melted Cheese. Microwave. BOOM!

and best for last….

Ultimate Omelet:

For this omelet, you will need four eggs, eight slices of cheese, turkey bacon, maybe some vegetables, (but as long as they’re sauteed in butter first), also, any leftovers from the night before would be very useful in this recipe. You put margarine, or butter in the pan…all depends on how fat you’re feeling. Once this is all melted, and the delicious oils are all bubbling, you put in your egg that has been fluffed up. Pour all your ingredients; unhealthy vegetables, leftover lobster, lunch meat, hamburger helper, turkey bacon, bacon… all of it. Just throw it in there. Flip it over, and make sure that bad boy gets crispy on both ends. Put in on your plate, and enjoy. If you’re feeling adventurous, this can also be served with a side of  Grilled Cheese Supreme.

This is the story of how I became fat. Some recipes may have been altered, depending on my level of hunger at this moment.

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.

Helga, Helga, Go Away!


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It’s time for Helga to go away and to never come back. Her funeral will be held tomorrow morning at 9:00 am. RIP big girl.

Helga is driving me up the wall and all she wants to do is to sabotage my life. I swear, if she bugs me one more time to walk to the kitchen, I’m going to slap the fat out of her. People look at me in public because I’m always yelling at her; maybe I shouldn’t have stopped my crazy pills. But that’s a discussion for another day.

It’s not that I’m hungry, or that I’m bored. I really don’t know what it is. Helga tells me to eat, so I do. I still sometimes forget that I was surgified, and Doctor removed my stomach. Sometimes I wish I would just have more control. It’s so hard to just wake up one morning and just give up your love for food. That just doesn’t happen in the real world. I am so envious of all these healthy fit people who post their Instagram and Pinterest pictures about how healthy they are, and look at their abs. Good for you, but b!@#, I’m jealous. I know I’ve lost over 40 pounds, but I’ve been at the same place for almost three weeks, and can’t seem to get out of that evil number that haunts my dreams. I want to stand up to Helga and tell her to eff off because she does nothing for me, but keep me in the same sad fat place I’ve been for a long time.

I just wish I could break that evil number and just get on with my life. Helga, you are not wanted. Let me do this on my own.