First Dates: How I Developed My Pet Name


First dates are both interesting and intimidating. You really need to make a good impression the first time you’re out with a complete stranger. First dates are extremely frightening, especially if you’re going for dinner to a fancy restaurant with a stranger you hardly know. Luckily, I haven’t had to worry about any first dates in a long time, but the last time I went on one, it was quite special.

Let’s just say, Donald has been calling me “Miss I’ll Just Have A Salad Please” since our first date together, which was just over three and a half years ago. Now, there are many reasons why he gave me this nickname. Firstly, on our first date, he took me to a super nice restaurant, one that I would normally only be able to afford while on a Groupon. Let’s just start off by saying, I loved bread and butter. This warm, delicious, smoking bread came to the table with soft butter, and all I wanted to do was shove my face in it and devour it all. I know that first dates really are the first impression, so I didn’t want to come off as a ravenous animal who has never seen bread before. I watched Donald eat the bread, and the while salivating watching him with each bite he took. When it came time to ordering the meal, I undoubtedly did just have a salad. A warm spinach salad to be exact… BARF! What the hell was I thinking? Obviously I didn’t want to go on a date with this guy and be like “Oh hey, I’ll have a AAA Angus Steak with mashed potatoes, and extra melted cheese on top, Oh, and of course a shrimp cocktail to start”. Although, it really was what I wanted, I couldn’t afford an $80 meal, and didn’t want him to think that I was a fat cow. I ate only half of my warm spinach salad, while getting more and more squeamish with each bite. I watched him eat his sausage pasta and was jealous that I made the wrong choice. (Is it normal that I remember what he ate? I must have been starving myself) As soon as I got home, I made myself a nice box of Kraft Dinner, because I was starving… (please keep in mind this was pre-surgery). Thinking back, I wasn’t the skinniest of girls, why would a fat girl go to a nice restaurant and order a warm spinach salad? Obviously he knew the kind of food I was into.. I mean after all, he isn’t stupid! I guess I also ordered the warm leaves because what if he didn’t like me, and walked out, and made up some story like he had to go take his blood sugar and left me with the bill? I had to order the cheapest thing on the menu; especially after he ordered BOTTLED WATER! Who orders bottled water? Not that I’m cheap or anything, actually I am- but tap water is just fine with me and I don’t feel poor asking for it! I know it’s not nice to assume that he was paying for the meal, I guess I’m just old fashioned like that.

Anyway, two months later, or some time after that, he finally asked me if I wanted to be his official girlfriend. I said yes, and then decided it was alright to eat normally. Once he saw me scarf down my first steak, I adopted the name “Miss I’ll Just Have A Salad Please” I told you he was smart!

Now, it’s okay to eat normal in front of each other. With three and a half years of dating, comes comfort. We still haven’t gotten comfortable with going to the bathroom with the door open, but we’re taking baby steps!

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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!!

It’s Called A DIE(t) For A Reason


The hardest part about being on a strict diet, is knowing you can’t have anything you want. I’ve been on a strict diet for the last seven days, twelve hours, nineteen minutes and twenty seconds (which realistically I should have been on for the last twenty years, but whatevs) and all I can think about is fried food, fat food, sugary food- anything. I don’t even like chicken nuggets, but today, it’s all I can think about. You know those chicken nuggets that say “lightly battered:” on the menu, but then you get them and they’re breaded with an entire loaf of white bread and cooked in an entire tub of extra grease? It’s those that I’m thinking about. Also, pizza. Pizza is a triangular form of deliciousness that can be made in so many delicious ways, and is just so magnificently delicious. I also really like this super weird thing that I don’t mind sharing with the world. Get ready because it is so delicious that you just might eat your computer screen. Ok, so you know when you microwave day old pasta and there’s cheese on top?  When the cheese and pasta gets really crunchy, I enjoy that… like REALLY enjoy. Sometimes I try to burn my food in the microwave because I want the cheese and noodle chips. 

Speaking of delicious can we take a moment to talk about pickles? Pickles are amazing sodium stuffed cucumbers. They’re so crunchy, and really bother the people around you, because you smell like garlic and you’re crunching like a horse. I personally don’t mind hearing myself chew like a horse, but if someone else does it, they will have their fingers chopped off, and I will steal their pickle, just saying. 

Anyway, it’s funny just to say it out loud what I’m thinking about, because in the real world I would never actually eat pizza or deep fried chicken… never ever! It’s like I’m  a teenager who can’t have her little high school crush, they always want what they can’t have. 

Sorry Mr. Nugget, I’m better off without you. 

 

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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Hillary, The Someday Olympian!


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I absolutely ADORE the Olympics! I like to watch the skiing, and the finger skaters, and all the pretty costumes. Sometimes I wish I had the ability to do any kind of physical activity. At time, I envision my face on the Olympians face and pretend that it’s me doing all that funky twirling in the air kind of stuff! I tried to do Olympic skiing on the Wii once, but that failed tremendously when I fell head first into my fireplace. I still have scars. Maybe that’s why I don’t like working out, I’m afraid of being hurt and then falling! I don’t know what it is, but no matter what I do, I’m unable to move around properly. I have no balance, no rhythm,  no grace. I’m a special kind.

If I could do any kind of sport in the Olympics, I think I would do interpretive dancing. You know, the ones with the ribbon wands! I’ve always wanted to hop around like a bunny and feel like a pretty elegant princess. Somehow though, no matter what I do, I always end up tripping on something, and looking like a buffoon. I swear, it can be standing on something so flawless, and still trip and break my face. My mommy always told me that I was clumsy and not very girl-like. She always told me to be graceful, but being graceful is just boring. I can do it on the weekends, and to go to special classy events, but to be graceful all day, every day just wouldn’t work for me.

For now, I think it’s best to stick to walking. To the bus. Because I really can’t go wrong there.

Valentines Day Comes Once A Year


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So Valentines Day just passed. I had the most amazing day! It started at 7:00 AM, Donald and I both woke up, and before brushing our teeth, we exchanged our gifts. We should have brushed our teeth, it’s hard giving/accepting gifts with bad breath. Donald was so generous and I am a lucky girl to have him!  So after our amazing present session, we had coffee together, and then he brought me to work. I spent the entire day at work planning what we would eat for dinner. I finally decided to kill some lobster for dinner. I’ve only ever cooked a lobster once, and I usually name them before I kill them (RIP Libby the Lobster) Anyway, I got ready to go to the store, and the damn lobster store was out of lobsters. Like wasn’t cool at all. After my dinner plans failed, Donald suggested that we go out to dinner. I think he suggested because once my hunger gets to a certain level, I turn into Ursula from The Little Mermaid and I’m not so pleasant to be around.  We decided on a fancy restaurant because they serve small portions and then I don’t feel bad about eating 3/4 of my plate! So we go to this beautiful nice restaurant, and I had my child size portioned meal, and I am stuffed. The waiter brings over some delicious plate filled with chocolatey, sugary, delicious treats and I almost died. I don’t think my eyes have ever opened so wide before. I figured, it’s only Valentines Day once a year, so …I had a little bite of everything on that plate. Chocolate covered marshmallows, chocolate covered strawberries, creme brulé, cake pops. Oh, and my favorite- there was chocolate lava cake. Like actually, my favorite. Sometimes when I think like a fat girl, I imagine what it would be like to die and go to chocolate lava cake heaven, and take a bath in a chocolate jacuzzi. I’m a sick individual. Anyway, so I let myself have small bites of everything, big deal, it’s only once a year that I fall for temptations, right? WRONG!…

 

February 15 is the Jewish Chocolate Lovers favorite day of the year!! Chocolate. Cheap. 80% Off. Cheap. Chocolate. Like really, do I need to say more? I decided to stop into the pharmacy to see what kind of chocolately treats were for sale. They had those fancy delicious ones on sale from $20 to $5. Like, how could I pass that up! I picked up a box, and felt okay about it. Then I got home, and I stared at that unholy heart shaped box. It was wrapped beautifully, in shiny cheap red plastic, with a pretty bow. I spoke to myself for a while and asked if I really wanted the chocolate. I don’t know what came over me, but I decided to put them away, and give them away to someone who needed them more, Ronnie Ginger. I believe she truly enjoys chocolate, and I got my chocaddiction from her. I got good qualities from my mommy.

This Valentines Day was a success, without going into a sugar shock!

 

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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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