Tag Archives: diet

help wanted

Help Wanted.

So I used to have this one friend and now I don’t ( wouldn’t you love to know)… And the one thing we were really good at was losing weight together.  It was half  competition (that was my half) and half support system (um, yep, she was the good guy in all this).  And it worked.  Between us, I think we lost the equivalent of a husky third-grade boy scout and it was awesome.

And then she broke up with me.

And  I rebound.  A lot. With pizza.  And chips. (Knowing all this would  make her piss herself with pleasure, I bet.  So I guess she wasn’t *all* good (There. Gratuitous insult complete) .  But I digress…

And ever since I have been moaning, whining, plotting, planning, contemplating, pontificating, reading – and now, finally – writing about my attempts to lose weight.  I have turned something simple into an algorithm best left for  the nerdy dude Matt Damon played in Good Will Hunting.

All I really need is some help, gentle reader.

Basically, I am looking for a weight loss buddy.  Someone to team up with.  I have built this job posting to help: (Please note: single-digit sized people need not apply):

Must be committed but not quite as committed as me.

-Must enjoy frantic phone calls, emails, and text messages where you talk me out of the bakery.

-Must enjoy chips, chocolate, cheese, pizza and cookies. I do not want to be the only one being deprived.

Preferably, I am looking for someone one size down from me – you will generously donate to me all your too-large clothing.  However, willing to accept someone one size up, purely for the smugness factor.

-Must  welcome verbal abuse.

-Must never lose more than me in any given week.

-Ability to see through all my bullshit and still want to motivate one another will be highly regarded.

The funny thing is – I am not really being funny!  So, if  you’re in a similar situation and looking to pair up, let me know!  Having this blog is amazing – the feedback truly encouraging, but I would like to go one on one with someone so let me know if you’d be interested.  (Must have email, facebook or twitter). Alternatively, here are some other openings:


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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Saucy

My Ass Is On Fire

So, I have written and talked and contemplated weight loss for several weeks now, but as usual, have neglected much of the …. ummmmmm….. doing it part.  But I am very grateful now that I was weak and cowardly earlier today and let myself get bullied into working out by a kind, fierce friend who swears way too much.

hottest warrior ever

So, I worked out, felt sick, smelt sick and then I showered and now…I am a warrior.

Seriously, I spent the entire afternoon singing & whistling and feeling great.

Until my husband got home.

So, husband is home, dinner is ready (yep and the fact that I managed somehow to both workout and prepare dinner in the same day has also contributed to my glee/Glee – husband claims this is a first btw).  I am singing (not unloudly) as I dish out the chicken and suddenly husband bursts into laughter.  H asks me, pretty please, to repeat what I have just sung, in the same smug-ish voice he uses when I try to pronounce irregular French verbs.  Ok, it’s a tune I’ve had stuck in my head all afternoon, so no problem:

Me: “…My Ass is On Fire……”

Him: Can you  sing it again?

Me: Sure…(clearing throat)…My Ass Is On Fire

Him: Right.  Walks over to laptop and clicks on this video:

Me: Oh Shit…well whatever…why do those boys all look the same?…my version makes more sense anyhow”

And then he reminds me the time I confused this one too:

“Later on, we’ll conspire, as we dream by the fire…”

And my version:

‘” Later on, we’ll perspire, as we dream by the fire…”

Husband’s equally “funny” father got miles of jokes and laughter from that one. Used to sing it like that during the holidays. Yup, they’re all “funny”.

I don’t limit my gaffes to songs either. Earlier in the week,  I noticed there were 4 empty beer bottles from the previous night,and he was the only one drinking.  I turned to husband and declared:

“Husband, you got some ‘splaining to do.”  Except I used my best Gary Coleman-Different Strokes voice.  Except,as everyone except me knows, this infamous ‘spression was coined by Ricky Ricardo.

what chew talkin bout Lucy??

Husband did abrupt double take and lectured me on the appropriate Different Strokes – I Love Lucy pop culture applications. On a related and stunningly uninteresting note (husband specializes in related and stunningly uninteresting notes, sidebars and footnotes), did you know that Ricky Ricardo was a famous and established band leader pre-Lucy? Me neither. Do you care? Me neither. I just thought he had great hair and a cute accent.

This is why husband will get leftovers tomorrow night.

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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Saucy, Scaling Back

I’m kind of not a big deal

I’m kind of not a big deal, and that’s ok.  But sometimes I just kind of forget, y’know?

Exhibit A.

When I was 10 I was the ultimate Solid Gold Dancers Fan, I used to watch it religiously and had their posters splattered all over my bedroom (ceiling). I even had – gasp – personalized autographs from a few of them.

Talk about "Dance Like Nobody's Watching"

I adored them and it looked like they thought I was pretty special too, right?  Until I went over to Katie’s house and  {louder shrieky} gasp, she had the same personalized autographed glossy 8×10 headshots as I did.  Apparently, anybody who asked got one – just like that. Turns out I wasn’t so special after all.   Fast forward to grade 8 math class:

Mr. Mucusker, my first school-girl crush: I was convinced that if he looked deep enough into my eyes, he would see me and crush right back.   I used to stare-wide-eyed and unblinking during his  lessons.   I got a C that year.  Typical.

So I was completely floored by a recent post by  the very amazing  Sharon D, who  wrote candidly about a part of her troubled youth and the man she  credits for reaching out, in  spite of everything and pulling her up.  In her case, this policeman  needed to show her that she really is kind of a big deal, since she couldn’t see it herself yet.

So the moral here is that we really are ALL kind of a big dealer actually.

Just that maybe we can’t always choose the MOMENTS of our Big-Dealness y’know?  (Really humiliating example to demostrate this is quickly approaching)

Exhibit B:

I am currently working on a top secret undercover project for spaghettiandspanx and  decided that getting an interview with Jessica Seinfeld would really help cement the project and give me focus ( ok, yep, and provide a whole lot of klout too) Eagerly, I wrote her an email asking her to contact me.  Three entire days went by and – nothing!!  I even sent her a couple of tweets, one which included a link to the 5 minute long confessional rant post.  See –  I was convinced that it would go something like this:

Jessica, upon reading the post where I break up with my scale: “ahhh hahaha hahahaha …Jerry, you gotta read this – this girl’s a riot {insert coffee shooting out of her nose from unexpected hilarity}

Jerry, in next room, doing um, funny things: Hey honey – can you keep it down.  Me and {insert cool celebrity here} are {insert funny activity}

Jessica: “yada yada yada Jerry, you gotta come watch this!!”

Jerry {enter stage right} camera pans in to Jerry reading intently: “honey, you gotta collaborate with this girl, she’s even funnier than me – not that there’s anything wrong with that” {as lone tear trickles down his face}

Um, what actually happened was she sent me a very gracious & polite note, regretting that she was unavailableDuh!!

Seriously, it was Mr. Mucusker all over again.  As soon as I come out of my imaginary fantasy -crazed daydream I am actually horrified by my behaviour.  Luckily I spent 3 hours completing a very complicated puzzle with my youngest , and now HE thinks I am kind of a big deal!

So tell me (PLEASE!!!) that, you too have been struck by delusions of  grandeur??  I am actually begging you to …*whimper*….

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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Saucy, Scaling Back, Uncategorized

what if you’re only half the chick you think you are

OK –  so I realize that it’s not often one gets to call *serendipity* while sitting on the toilet, hunched over, while the last 5 days worth of food comes gushing out – but that’s EXACTLY how it happened.  In preparation of an extended stay in the bathroom and in between cramps, I had grabbed a magazine from the kitchen  and on the cover was the headline,

my electrician must have accidently left this behind

“Real People: Half Their Size”!!  OK, so this was not my usual issue of the The Economist or The NewYorker, it was the special Double Issue of People, but I swear – I have no idea how it landed in our house, really.

See, I don’t know what I ate that has caused my body to go into Code Red but I have been sitting on the toilet or very near to it, doing exactly what this article was promoting: losing half my body weight!!

Except that we all know sickness weight loss only lasts as long as the sickness and I have plans for tomorrow so if I was serious about losing half my weight, (which I am not, only like maybe a quarter or so)  I’d have to find another way. So I decided that the only thing cooler than finally shedding some poundage would be: SELECTIVE WEIGHT LOSS!!  Whereby I get to choose exactly where the weight comes off.  Talk about incentive!!!

So with that in mind, I will start with the easy ones:

60% of my butt.  The bottom half. Unless,I can simply re-locate it to my boobs. That would be awesome too!

The furrow in my brow.

The part of my mid-section where my back-fat is meeting my love handles.

The excess fat around my stocky peasant ankles.

I know this will only amount to a small amount but sometimes it’s the little things right? I’d get rid of the hair growing strangely out of my chin. They are coarser than the regular ones so their combined weight may really add up.

Now it gets tricky (and weird) as sacrifices must be made to shed more of me:

Both my pinkies: I have this really annoying habit of sticking them upwards when handling a glass of any kind.  And since I am not Victorian gentry I think I ‘d be willing to give em up! Also, I am a thumb-typist so again,no *real* reason to keep em, right?

I am totally willing to rid myself the part of brain that registers the sound of people chewing loudly

So happy to be rid of  the part of my heart that causes my arrhythmia

And there goes the part of nose that registers the scent of  blue cheese, human farts & obnoxious perfumes (dog farts don’t distress me as much as they probably should)

Finally gone would be the part of my hearing that has had to endure childrens whining,  Celine Dion and Margaret Atwood.

I'd be all of her, all the time!!

Combined, I think that brings me to approximately 30%- give or take a limb or artery.  But no

reason to go all Drew Carey at once  And I am not ashamed to admit I got all warm & fluffy knowing that at half my weight, I’d weigh less than a super model, ok,, not all models, just supersexy curvy ones like Crystal ….Awesome!!

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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Monday's Misssion, Scaling Back

3×528-13+4= frustrations & funky odors!!

and that’s how much I weigh…or at least that’s what it feels like.  For the first time ever (and this includes to pregnancies) I actually feel as if my stomach is too big.  It hurts. It whines. It makes strange noises and occasionally emits funky odors.

a good support system is very important

I don’t get it – I have been writing about weight loss for weeks now. And talking about it.  I read about it incessantly. And still no weight loss.  So I am going to try um, acting on it now.   I will go old-school – and by this I mean jump (carefully) on a scale and actually look at the number. I do know  I am past overweight – this is where the word obese is joyously introduced into conversation. I feel like shit and am beginning to smell like it too.

For the record, I am trying to lose weight for me but mainly because my doctor suggested it.  I am noticing a trend where educated, articulate feminist gals are not meant to  admit to wanting to lose weight.  It is akin to giving up the vote and putting our bras back on (for the record, I barely wear one…just sayin).  One women remarked that with my attitude, it is a blessing that I do not have girls.  Here’s the thing: I like feeling pretty And sometimes I feel pretty in a dress and makeup (but never, ever with heels, those things hurt, man). and sometimes I feel all pretty and snuggly in my pj’s with a well- moisturized face and freshly brushed teeth. Sometimes I feel pretty, sweating along to a crazy Jillian Michels DVD.  I don’t know how you define it, but pretty to me mainly feels like there is alway the hint of a smile and a twinkly in my eye. I stand a little straighter and smile more.  If I get that from being able to wear size 8 jeans (as if!!!) then amazing.  I also know that regardless of size, making the right food choices and pumping some iron while listening to Flashdance also make s me feel pretty good too. But not being able to reach down to the ground properly and farting and huffing & puffing up the stairs: Not so pretty.  So I have chosen not to wait: by my 40th birthday I want to feel 16 pounds prettier.  Just call me Gloria!!

p.s. this 16pounds will not get me to svelte….it’s just that my birthday is 8 weeks away (Valentines Day but don’t worry there will be plenty of reminders) and 2 pounds a week seemed reasonable. I will still have miles to go after that, not too worry!

Is your will-power as flabby as your flesh?

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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Monday's Misssion, Scaling Back

Meet Bitchy’s little cousin, Feisty.

“So I read what she wrote on the facebook page of the girl who said that thing to her, can you believe it – what a bitch!”

So in my last post, I blamed my weight gain on my mom. Today, I’d like to take aim at mean-spirited  people instead (yes – I do realize that blaming everyone except for myself may be counter-productive but that’s another post.) .  Earlier I found out I was being accused of playing mind games and other fun juvenile stuff. My problem with this is that 1)  I prefer to go for the heart, preferably with dagger or crossbow rather than waste my time with a soft, squidgy brain fat and 2) This kind of crap makes me want to eat – a lot!

As I was listening to all the gory details of my supposed treacherous behavior, all I could think of was chocolate chip cookies.  And pies. And carrot cake.  My friends voice started to sound not unlike that of Charlie Browns teacher as I wondered which would be faster: baking something or a trip to the grocery store (and if you knew just how much I abhor both baking and going out in the snow, you’ll understand the gravity of the situation.

The thing is, I cannot not get upset about these things.  And as far as my thighs are concerned, feeling upset is the same thing as eating the damn cookies anyhow.

Enter Bitchy’s  little cousin, Feisty.

Feisty has come a long way (baby). Historically, feisty was defined as aggressive, nervous, touchy but is now more often used to describe one as spirited, assertive and able to speak up for oneself. I love the fact that a word can evolve over time, rather than lay dormant, useless. I love that depending on by who and how it is viewed, Feisty can be both aggressive & touchy, as well as assertive and spunky.  Bitchy – on the other had –  is over. Bitchy is  empty, void of any punch & vitality.  It is a useless one-dimensional catch-all used by people too lazy and spineless to know better.  So the fact that I was called one – meh, big deal!

meh...

Feisty on the other hand is awesome! Feisty shouted out to drink some water so I did.  Later,  Feisty just rolled her eyes when I tried to justify my sudden craving for a burger & fries and wordlessly brought out the hummus and carrots instead. Feisty reminded me to work out instead of pig-out. Feisty could beat Bitchy in a thumb-wrestle any day. Basically, Feisty rocks and I’m so glad to have met her!

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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Saucy, Scaling Back

wonky people are ubiquitous and drive me bonkers

wonky people are ubiquitous and drive me bonkers.

WTF???

OK. The truth is, I have no idea if this is even true (or um, like grammatically correct) but if it was – it probably would drive me bonkers.

But I just wanted – no, needed – an excuse to use up 3 of my favorite words (wonky, bonkers, ubiquitous) in one sentence. See, I am having food as comfort kinda day and was searching for fun distractions from eating. I have a history of distracting myself from chips by eating pizza. Or distracting myself from chocolate by eating candy. Apparently, this is not ideal.

(Oh sidebar:  I used to be all about the quotation marks but now I just thrive on italics. Another useful distraction.)

So, basically I have temporarily given up all things associated with munching: reading, tv, bathing (yep, this is done. A good friend once told me her son’s favorite bathtime activity was to make a bowl of buttery-goodness popcorn and put it into a big ‘ol flat bottomed bowl so it floats and enjoy it in the bath.  I dare you not to try this!), movies, phone calls – anything where my hands are left unattended basically.  As previously mentioned, I have read a few books on diet & nutrition, I just find their hellful helpful suggestions about as useful as a useful as a fish on a bicycle

useful fish on a bicycle

useful fish on a bicycle

I could Get a hobby, Join a club, do yoga, collect stamps or dance. Yep, I can dance??

Screw it – here is my list of pathetic (yet effective) distractions.

Feel free (I am begging you actually) to add your ideas:

online shopping at anthropologie for things I cannot afford

Or maybe I'll just eat the baguette...

searching for split ends

hanky panky

create iTunes playlist for our holiday party (where 100 people bring mounds & mounds of delicious food)

watch Liz Lemon mash-ups (except for all the food references  – so like, almost all of them)

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Filed under Heavy Weight Wednesdays, Saucy