I Lost 15 Pounds :) Yay Me!

Yep, I did it. And I'm gonna do it again so I can get to 30 pounds lost.

I don't mean to brag but I rock, y'all.

The other day I was in a fancy meeting with all these big time people but since I'm a writer I like to dress super cas (as in casual) even though I'm usually so nervous I want to throw up or have diarrhea.

So anyway, I bust out THE JEANS. "The jeans" are the jeans in the next size down that didn't fit that I bought hoping they would one day fit, even though I swore I would stop buying jeans in next size down that would one day fit but do not fit right now.

But they were so cute!

Dark denim.

They were on sale for only twenty dollars!

C'mon. I can resist a donut but I cannot resist cute, dark denim on sale jeans for twenty dollars.

I try them on for my meeting. They will not zip. I lay on the bed, I lay on the floor. Nope, they ain't zipping.

Okay, I have a plan. I drive to the meeting with unzipped jeans on. During the twenty minute drive to the big fancy meeting, the jeans will probably stretch.

They will HAVE to stretch! Dear God, I hope they stretch.

I pull into the valet and he watches me curiously as I am jumping up and down and trying to zip my unzippable jeans.

I get them up on the third try! Yay! Now it's just the button that will not button. I can keep them unbuttoned but then it looks like I am smuggling something under my shirt. Not good. I bust a move for the ladies room.

It's there that I get the button of the jeans buttoned. Problem: I am now restricting blood flow from the top half of my body to the bottom half.

I decide it's totally worth it because I look good. Fifteen pounds lighter in a size smaller jean. AMEN!!!

I am sitting with the super important people and this is the part where you make small talk but all I can think about it how I am probably going to pass out and then they will have to call an ambulance and then a fireman will come and have to cut me out of these jeans.

I'm asked by one of the very important people, "So what's new with you?" I couldn't speak, I didn't know what to say... I couldn't think of anything funny, witty or charming when the only thing I could see is a swarm of executives watching me being cut out of my jeans and revealing the giant grannie panties I bought in a six pack at Target.

So I say: "Um... I went on a diet and lost fifteen pounds and thought I could wear the next size jeans down and basically I'm just sitting in these super tight jeans waiting to pass out and then have to be emergency air lifted out of here."

The whole room cracked up laughing.

I won them over. I did not die. I looked super cute for the whole hour. I was confident, composed, attentive.

And at the end of it, I smiled, I said my goodbyes and then I ran like hell to my car, unbuttoned my jeans in the parking garage and drove home.

If you like this post, send it to a bunch of friends by using the little envelope icon below. When you do, men will chase you down the street and invite you out for shrimp cocktails.


This blog is dedicated to just doing it.

I Lost 15 Pounds :)
Yay Me!

Adventure Bowl Flying Trapeze Girl

Is your life stale? Boring? Are you stressed? Job, boyfriend, back fat got you down?

Then you need to do something crazy, spontaneous and out of your comfort zone in order to remember what is so easy to forget...

YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO DO.

As most of you know, when life was bringing me down and I found it easier to crawl under the covers with a bag of Cheetos than face all my problems, I made a promise to try one fun, "get out of my rut" (or at least my bed) activity a week that would shake my life up and remind me who I was.

Last week, out of the Adventure Bowl, I picked, "Today you will take trapeze lessons."

What really surprised me the most is how high 30 feet can feel up off the air. (Or maybe it was 1000 feet... okay, it was only 30.) My heart started to pound like it knew something I didn't.

"Um, what is your refund policy?"

The cashier raised his eye brow, "If you don't wanna do it, don't do it." Oh, I want to do it, I said. I would just like to see your past ten years of safety records. That seems like a normal request, right? It's not that I'm scared (I am so fucking scared), I just want to be safe. He rolled his eyes. There was a challenge in that eye roll.

Fine, I'll do it. Just to prove it to eye roll-y guy. But just to be safe, I tucked my insurance card in my side pocket. Along with directions to the nearest hospital.

The instructor at the top had me chalk my hands and then he wanted me to inch out on the platform. I use the word "platform" loosely because it was about half the size of a dental bib.

"Um, what is your refund policy again?"

The instructor was amazingly encouraging but there was no way I was jumping to my death and then paying for it.

No. No way. Forget it.

I felt chunky. I felt weak in my body. I knew I could swing but I'd never be able to dangle from my legs or pike up or grab the opposite swing. It wasn't going to happen. For me, if I'm going to do something, I want to do it big. I want to be perfect. I want to do what all these other girls are doing.

I said: "I'll never be able to do anything but swing."
My instructor said: "You have to start somewhere."

Right. Okay. Light bulb moment. Oprah Ah-Ha moment. The whole point in coming was to try something different. To be thrilled. To see a fear and kick it in the face.

To let go.

So I did.

I let go.

And IT WAS AWESOME. Amazing. There are no words. I was so damn proud of myself. Smiling as I free fell into the net.

Do it. Take a trapeze lesson. Or a dance lesson. Or something, anything you haven't done before. Lose yourself then gain yourself. Have that feeling of "Yes, I did it!"

And then imagine all the things you are afraid of, and then know you don't have to be afraid of them anymore because you did this... this impossible thing that you thought you'd never do because of the fear.

I feel so strong today. Strong, like I want to take that incredible trapeze feeling and go after some things I've been afraid to do. Stand up for myself with the boss, the ex-boyfriend... and that lady who keeps letting her dog crap on my lawn.

Look out world!


This post is dedicated to pink wigs and tutus.

Adventure Bowl
Flying Trapeze Girl

This Is Super Cool

I saw this quote and I thought it was cool. I wish I knew who said it.

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, your body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "Woo hoo!" What a ride!"

If you substituted pizza for chocolate, I have a night like this about once a month but after reading this, I know I need to bump up my fun quota.

It's a great reminder as we get closer to closing out the year, a time when a lot of people reexamine their lives.

Are you having enough fun? If you knew it was all going to end in a week could you giggle at all the mischievous good times you had? Or would you be filled with regrets of the things you haven't done?


This blog is dedicated to chocolate martini fun.

This Is Super Cool

I Just Got Asked Out By An 80 Year Old Man

Seriously.

I need to have a better moisturizing regimen if the only guys I'm going to be asked out by are the ones that take their teeth out at night.

So, I'm at the dog park and I start talking to this adorable old man. I think, "Look at me, I'm a good person. I talk to old people." (I also bought a homeless man a burrito at El Pollo Loco, not that I'm bragging, except that I'm bragging.)

And then he asks me out. For sushi. Now I'm feeling awkward and this is weird. He's 80.

And as I float off into a fantasy of becoming the Anna Nicole Smith in sweatpants to his J. Howard Marshall in a Members Only jacket, he snaps me back into reality by saying...

"Of course, if I take you out, we would have to go dutch."

WHAT???

All of a sudden, I've been shut down by someone I didn't even want to go out with. Someone who, quite frankly, can't even promise me they'll be alive for a date next week.

It hurt my feelings.

And then I gave him my email address.

I'm going to make him love me enough to buy me sushi.

I wonder what I should wear when I go to meet my new step-grandkids.


This blog is dedicated to wasabi nuts.

I Just Got Asked Out By An 80 Year Old Man

Naked Victory Laps

I will write more tomorrow but I did want to say...

I am very pleased with the Presidential outcome tonight.

First, we drank martinis out of nervousness.

Then we drank champagne out of victory.

And I thought of all the people who fret about keeping their houses/having health care/people they love going off to war...

So I drank more champagne in relief.

And then when we were done, I tried to get one of my BFFs to run a naked victory lap for Obama in one of the posh-est neighborhoods in LA. And he said:

"But it's cold."

"OMG! It's history! Are you kidding me?"

So I took off my pants. He said, "Okay, I will go pantless." I said, "Pantless is lame. It's all or nothing!" Then I motioned like "off with my top."

He would not budge.

I thought: THIS IS HISTORY.

I said, "I'm chunky. If I'm willing to do it, you should do it, this should be nothing to a skinny rail like you."

He wasn't buying it.

And then the other part of me just wanted french fries and to let my dog out so he would not urinate in my bed. So I gave up trying to convince him.

But I would have gone naked for Obama and I will make my friend pay for the rest of his life for being a lame-o. But in the meantime, I am, french fries in hand, over the moon.


This blog is dedicated to OBAMA! and victory being sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!

Naked Victory Laps

Moms Are Funny

It's weird. The older I get, the more I feel like I am becoming a Mom to my Mom. I even had this urge to send her $25 in a Halloween card the other day.

On the phone last week, I was trying to encourage my Mom to um, actually tell the truth in therapy to her new therapist. I find it crazy that she would resist this as the whole point of going to therapy is to TELL THE TRUTH AND THEN GET BETTER.

I capitalize it because I am so dumb founded by my mother's desire to never be able to admit anything is wrong EVER.

So, there I am, talking to my Mom and saying how great it has been that I am now seeing a new therapist and how this is really helping inject some energy into figuring out certain things in my life.

(The manipulative subtext was, "And I hope you'll do the same." Which is out of love, people. My Mom has been carrying around 40 pounds of emotional baggage in a 10 pound bag.)

And this is what she says to me:

Mom: "I'm glad you're seeing a new therapist. I did not like your last one at all."
Me: "Well, why not?"
Mom: "Because she was teaching you about boundaries."

UH, YEAH!

She might as well have said, "I did not like her. She was doing the job she was paid to do and it was becoming really hard on me to push around my more emotionally stable daughter."

The noise I made when she said that was a 1/2 gasp and a 1/2 laugh that resulted in me kind of 1/2 choking and having to get off the phone.

I didn't know if I should have been pissed or find it amazingly hilarious.

I'm going with hilarious.


This blog is dedicated to half price Halloween candy. Bring it!

Moms Are Funny

If I Haven't Seen You In A While, I Will Run And Hide Behind A Car

This POST was voted "Most Likely To Be Totally Worth The Read." And I have the sash that says so. I'm wearing it now while drinking my 7-11 coffee.

First of all, I LOVED all of your comments on the post about the Diet Devil.

I hate to be all message-y and when you read my post below, you will run screaming from the computer before you will ever take advice from me again - but (before you lose all respect for me) let me say this one thing - we are all too hard on ourselves.

If you have a bad day, if your Diet Devil has wrestled you to the ground after convincing you that Ben & Jerry's and Nachos make a sensible snack, just ya know, start over tomorrow.

Forgive and forget.

If I had done that over these past three years instead of just digging myself deeper and deeper into a situation where fat girl jeans were required, I'd be so much happier.

They say the longer you do something, the more it becomes a habit. I'm on day... 36 or 37 of stellar eating and I'm seeing stellar results. The more days of good, healthful, "broccoli tastes just like candy!" I can string together, the more it feels like a way of life and the less it feels like unbridled torture.

Now here's my story... the one I'm mortified to tell you. The one in which, I, of a voluminous butt and jiggly old lady underarms, ran behind a car so people I haven't seen in three years would not see me.

Yeah, I did that.

Because I wasn't wearing a t-shirt that said, "Hey, awkward. We haven't seen each other in three years and I look like I gained a second grader around my middle and I'm totally embarrassed but just so you know - this is a totally temporary situation. If you are coming around the corner, in like six months, watch out, 'cuz I'm just gonna be that hot. And by hot, I mean, I will posses thighs that do not rub together."

I looked for that t-shirt at The Gap but they were out of XL.

It happened tonight. I was coming home from the dog park and there was this couple I haven't seen in years and they were walking on my street and I just felt... um, uncomfortable in this bigger body. I know I'm all ra-ra and "Don't let your big butt get in the way of your big life" and then I go duck behind a car but...

Yeah, I did that.

I've had this thing drilled in my head from my family and yes, I know it's a bad thing and I know it's a wrong thing, but it's still a thing. And it's that being heavy is a sign of weakness. That you must be weak to let that happen. That I must be weak.

It's really hard to admit that is in me, that to a degree I believe that.

But there's another thing I believe and that is, that it makes you super strong to turn what seems like an impossible situation (a big weight gain and a butt made from donuts and margaritas) - a situation that would be so much easier to stay in, to wallow in and to make worse (pound by pound) - it makes you super strong if you try and change that situation.

That's what I'm doing now. On the treadmill or putting spinach in my egg whites or not eating after 7pm or saying no to yummy dark beer and yes to apples instead of chips or ordering black coffee instead of lattes.

And even when it's felt like the results are agonizingly slow and even though I sometimes stop and beat myself up about why I would ever put myself in this situation, I think, "At least I'm doing it. At least, I finally took control and I'm doing it."

Then I breathe a sigh of frickin' relief. Two pounds lost has become six and then ten and then twelve (and a half... don't forget the halves, they add up.)

So, I'll try to not beat myself up, I will shut the brain door on thinking I'm weak and I will really, really try and stop ducking behind cars at night when I see people I'm not ready to see.

Because strong people know what they're doing and don't care what other people think.


This blog is dedicated to Jeeps with their wide ends for hiding behind.

If I Haven't Seen You In A While, I Will Run And Hide Behind A Car

My Inner Diet Devil Thinks Cookies And Ice Cream Would Make A Great Breakfast

Do you have an inner Diet Devil?

It's that voice inside your head as you're preparing a "good girl" meal of grilled chicken and steamed broccoli that starts off with a quiet whisper and then starts screaming:

"I WANT FRENCH FRIES NOW! And while you're at it, get a Big Mac to go with those fries. Ooooo, we need dessert, too! Bring pie!"

Yeah, that guy. I hate that guy. He's trying to sabotage me and won't be happy until I spend the rest of my life in pants that only close with draw strings and "Free Size" shirts.

And that's not a way to live, ladies!

Here's the deal. This whole blog has been about taking back my life from, um, well, the brink of "almost-disaster." Now work is good, finances are decent, friendships are repaired, new therapist is found, healing over the loss of my cousin/job/boyfriend has begun...

But I still have "big ol' fat depression butt."

So last month, I got serious. I started making a healthy breakfast. At breakfast, I planned lunch, at lunch I planned dinner. When things got so stressful and planning seemed to go out the window - I had a Backup-plan Plan. Defrost a frozen vegetable and dump a Lean Cuisine over it.

Lean Cuisine has, like, totally saved my life.

Every meal is paired with a huge serving of fruit or a veggie. The more full I am, the less I'm inclined to fantasize about shoplifting a bag of Ruffles potato chips from the 7-11 so the cashier won't judge me.

In 30 days, I lost 11 pounds.

Oh, did I mention exercise? Because that's a big part of it, though I have started off slow, just going to the gym 3 times a week for ONLY 45 minutes. I cap the "only" because I am stressing the point that I am trying to make this as easy on myself as possible so I won't find excuses not to do it.

But that's really when the Diet Devil is whispering in my ear. He knows that exercise is going to be the biggest piece of my weight loss pie (Mmmmmm, pie).

And he doesn't want me to go! He wants me to stay right here, chit-chatting on the internet or watching "Oprah."

Diet Devil: "Don't work out. Stay home, lie on the couch. Go ahead, put your feet up, you deserve it. Oprah is on. She's going to teach you how to be a better person. Isn't that going to benefit you more in the long run over riding some silly treadmill?"

Me: (small voice) "Um... I don't know."

So I started this post on Wednesday with the hopes that I would have a fantastic update about how I wrestled my Diet Devil and came out victorious with a trip to the gym. But it didn't happen. I talked myself out of going and then I let that be okay.

Not cool.

So today, Thursday, which isn't a gym day for me, I got my butt over to the gym and did what I needed to do. I don't want to fail myself. I have an uphill battle but the goal of 45 minutes 3 times a week is so small for what it gives back to me - it's physically, mentally and emotionally rewarding.

And if it'll make my jeans looser in the process - all the better!

The thing I have to remember is - it's just the getting there that's hard. Once I'm there, I really have to push myself to leave. I love the sweating and I love the feeling of getting stronger.

But mostly, I love setting out to do something and following through.

So what gets you to keep a promise to yourself? What do you do when you want to talk yourself out of going to the gym or eating right? I'd love to know. Then I can use it to beat that lil' Diet Devil off my shoulder the next time he's trying to keep me from going to the gym :)


This blog is dedicated to 8 pound weights.

My Inner Diet Devil Thinks Cookies And Ice Cream Would Make A Great Breakfast

I'm Very Busy Being In A Crazy Blind Rage...

Because someone went joyriding with my bank card and racked up over $800 bucks in three days. Luckily, I just ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner and that's about to make it almost better.

I showed amazing restraint not taking one of my old anti-anxiety pills I have left over from my "bad times" and crushing it into the raspberry jam.

What's ironic is I found this out as my bank card was being denied as I was making a donation to Save The Children. If you're trying to Save The Children, you should not have some maniac emptying out your bank account.

No. You should open you're bank account and actually find MORE money in there. Because you're a good person. Who saves the children.

I know the bank will make this okay but I still want to punch someone in the face.

After I cried to my friend on the phone and she made me giggle and see that everything would be okay, I hung up the phone and then my dog threw up in my bed.

So if you are having a bad day or had a bad week, get it out, girl! You can rant right here! I'm here for ya!

xoxoxo


This blog is dedicated to idiots to steal bank cards and then fill up their gas tanks and drive to San Francisco. Tomorrow, I'm dedicating a police report to you.

I'm Very Busy Being In A Crazy Blind Rage...

Adventure Bowl Let's Go Flying!

When I was starting this blog, I wrote about getting a pep talk from my younger sister. I told her after experiencing job loss, a death in the family, my Mom's illness and a break-up, I was feeling super blue and I didn't know what to do.

She said she had the perfect solution: I should jump out of an airplane.

I thought she meant figuratively and this was going to be some great metaphor for life - like "letting go" or "stepping out of my comfort zone."

No, she meant, literally, I should jump out of an airplane.

When she went sky diving, it had made her feel unbelievably strong, spontaneous and fearless and she thought it would do the same for me.

I did need that feeling of empowerment but I didn't want to do anything that would make me say... die in the process. Sky diving looks dangerous! But the more my way of doing things - eating Cheetos and hiding under a "Hello Kitty" comforter was not doing the trick to ease my pain, the more I started to come around to her koo koo bananas way of thinking.

That's when I made the Adventure Bowl and started filling it up with all sorts of things I had never done before, things that would thrill me and make me feel happy again.

This past week I picked the only kind of sky diving I felt ready for out of the bowl. That's indoor sky diving. It was such a shocking blast! You suit up just like regular sky diving and take a safety class where no one makes fun of you that you are a control freak for needing a totally safe environment where there is no danger of plummeting to your death.

And then you step into this massive wind tunnel and get blasted up into the air in this huge, I don't know, 60 foot high container and you literally feel like you are really sky diving. There's even someone there to hold your hands and make sure you are A-okay.

And just as I was about to feel like I was the most awesome, fearless person on earth, I look out and realizing that this giant tube is totally clear - and realize that tourists are taking pictures of me and I probably look kind of ridiculous in my one piece nylon jumping suit and gigantic grin.

But I don't care!

It was just that spectacular and not very expensive and something I think everyone should do! It even made me feel bold enough to add REAL sky diving to the Adventure Bowl to be picked out somewhere in the future.

Except that time, I'll be holding my sister's hands and not a strangers.


This blog is dedicated to little sisters.

Adventure Bowl
Let's Go Flying!