Dear Yoga Teacher


Dear Yoga Teacher, or any fitness instructor for that matter,

Thank you for thinking that I’m just as flexible as Amanda and Rihanna, however, I hate to break it to you, but I am not. I can’t even sit in child’s pose without my feet getting stuck in my butt. Isn’t child’s pose supposed to be the comfortable one when I’m relaxing? I don’t find it relaxing, I feel stressed, and also,  I need a muscle relaxant just to keep my knees on the ground, and my head in a normal position. When I have to do downward dog, I feel like I’m a 6 foot Great Dane, unable to keep myself up. I shake everywhere like I’m doing the freaking salsa in an awkward pose.  When everyone else is doing that funky thing when their feet are in the air and we have to reach, has it ever occurred to you that I have a stomach and it gets in the way? Seriously, it’s like one of the orange cones that won’t let you move. MY STOMACH IS AN ORANGE CONE.

Your enthusiasm makes me feel like I could do it, but the tire around my waist really just gets in the way.

 

Sincerely,

A motivated, still fat wannabe Yogi.

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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!

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!

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!!

I’m Back!


I’ve said it once, and I’m hoping this is the last time I have to say it….I’m back, and feeling better than ever! I finally woke up, slapped myself in the head a couple of times and realized that I was wasting such an amazing opportunity that I was given. I have been sticking to my diet 110% and the results are just beyond words amazing. This is the LIGHTEST I have been in ten years. I’ve been fat for a while. Honestly, things are only going down from here…in a good way. There are new changes going on in myself that I am just so excited about!!!!  I now look down, and can see more foot than I have ever been able to! I had no idea that my pinky toe goes a bit to the left. I have less cheek than ever. I can fit less food in my chipmunk cheeks, and I look more girly now than before. My hair is coming in wildly quickly, and super shiny. My collar bones are back, and they’re bonier than ever. These things are weapons and the next person that pisses me off is getting beat with my amazing new collar bones.

I finally realize that I was given such a gift and I feel like for the last sixteen months I just abused the fact that I had a smaller stomach. I’m finally understanding how to use it and it feels amazing! I love this feeling, I’ve never felt this before. I’ve never woken up in the morning and tried on clothes, to have them fit me, or to try on an outfit and have it be TOO BIG… that’s just not me! So many changes are happening, and they’re all positive changes. I’m so happy beyond words!

 

 

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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. 

 

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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