Weight Loss Goals and Upper Body Whoa's

So as of yesterday.......drumroll, please......I hit my first weight loss goal. I am now 1/4 of the way towards my long term goal. That's right, I dropped 25 pounds. 25 pounds!! It didn't seem like a lot until I broke it down into percentages, but it IS a lot. My body feels better than it has in 10 years. I can walk without leg cramps, I am more agile, I don't get tired as easily, OH! AND!! I can see my feet without having to peer over my boobs and my gut. Gross I know, but monumental just the same. It inspires me to keep looking forward and to stop getting so stuck in the present. I get frustrated that the weight didn't just fall off. It's like I expected to become a surgical wonder child who would lose 60 pounds in a single bound. My own negativity is my kryptonite and I need to find my way around it.

With that said, while my legs are like tiny cellulite filled power houses that could walk for days, I have found that I currently have the upper body strength of a toddler. Walking is the only exercise allowed for four weeks until everything inside heals, so while my legs are like Iron Man strong, my arms and shoulders are like day old, watery jello. They get tired just washing my hair for God sakes. I was shaving my legs the other day and I swear I got a muscle cramp in my bicep (if I actually had a bicep that is!), and I just stood there with a half shaved leg and a WTF look on my face. When did that happen? When did I become....dare I say it....almost middle aged? I am counting the days until next Wednesday and then I am going to lift weights like Rosie O'Donnell eating at the Chinese Buffet. It's on like Donkey Kong now.

I have a mini informercial type gym set up in our sitting room that consists of a treadmill, an Ab-Doer Twist, a Shake Weight, hand weights and a body ball. I have DVD's for days all lined up and ready to collect dust....I mean, get used. One more week of walking the treadmill, and then I am venturing on to new workouts that will hopefully at least increase my upper body strength to that of a 10 year old boy. Everyone has to have a dream, right?

My kids being home on Spring break is cock blocking my writing like a bad yeast infection on a first date. Instead of being overloaded with funny thoughts and insights into my wackadoo life, they are flooded with the repitition of very mom-like things such as "because I'm the mom and I said so" and "if I have to tell you one more time to stop that". My already very ADD mind is on system shut down and restarting it will take more than a battery jump or a slap upside the head. I just want a margerita (strawberry please), a comfy lawn chair and a cool summer breeze on my face. Then I need a comfy bed and a spooning partner...and a door strong enough to shut out the voices in my head. Is that too much to ask?

My morning routine is FUBAR (f**ked up beyond all recognition) because for some odd reason, we are all sleeping in till like 8:30 or 9:00 o'clock, which is normally unheard of in my house. I remember years past when I was so psyched that it was going to be a school break. I would dream of sleeping in and awakening to the birds chirping, and the sunshine on my face, and I would get up and lazily have coffee and toast while the kids slept in till noon. Well, that dream sucks. Getting up an hour or two later than I am used to throws off my whole day. Sleeping in is for suckers and people without ambition as far as I am concerned now. I feel like my morning is wasted, between taking all of eternity to drink my protein shake, writing my blog entry, checking out how everyone is doing on Facebook and then mustering up enough energy to tackle the dreaded treadmill. Before I know it, it's noon and I have to get my ass moving on cleaning the house and tackling any errands I have for the day. I glance at the clock again, and it's dinner time. WTF? How did an hour or so throw off my entire day. I blame it on the kids. And Tim. Because they are a convenient excuse and it's easier than listening to the voice in my head that says "then just get up earlier dumb ass".

This break in my daily cycle has to be the reason that my body revolted against me last night when I tried to eat my chicken and fat free refried dinner again for what seemed like the 450th time this month. I was sitting peacefully, eating teaspoons of pureed chicken and pathetically watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs on TV when all of the sudden.......it happened. I slowly felt the chicken making a repeat appearance in my throat and then there it was. In the toilet. Still in the chunks I had swallowed. Laughing and pointing at me like some sort of cruel joke. Which sucks because tuna and chicken are basically the only meat I can eat right now, and with the chicken acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend, I am having a hard time remembering why I ever liked it in the first place. Which takes me back to shakes, soups and jello. Yum.

Oh, and as a side note, with the kids being home, my life has not only become one repeat episode of Clean House, but I am apparently stuck in jelly bean hell. Everywhere I go it's like a mini jellybean Easter egg hunt. I find them everywhere. Yesterday I found one behind the damned toilet. Who eats jellybeans in the bathroom? Does it take so long to take a piss that you need a sugar boost at 3pm? Kids are stupid. I know that sounds mean, but really take a minute to think about all the stupid things your kids do and then try to disagree with me. It's not to say I don't love them more than life itself. It's just that they are stupid.

And on that note, I am out of here. Because half my morning is gone, along with half of my sanity, and I need to try to preserve both before you catch me on the 11 o'clock news.

I'm here for your entertainment......

So, since I am still high off of the smell of honey baked ham, plus exhausted from a busy weekend, I am copping out of an actual blog and posting one of those "tell me more about your boring life" quizzes. Only, I answer it by my rules! So enjoy, and I will try to slough off yesterdays resentment toward all things delicious and get my head back on semi-straight.

Do you swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth?
I swear to tell my warped version of the truth for your entertainment

Where were you last night?
I was home. I have an alibi I swear.
Whatever it was, and whoever did it, it wasn't me

What is today's date?
I don't have a date today. I am married.

Who was the last person to call you baby/babe?
My mommy cause she loves me

When you're at the grocery store do you use the self checkout?
I used to but it makes me mad when light items don't register and then I throw stuff

Anyone crushing on you?
The bowl of chocolate eggs across the room is giving me a come hither look.

What is your relationship status?
Married and wondering why.
LOL

Has anyone ever sang to you?
A bum sang to me once as I was going into school. It was the downtown version of Homeless American Idol. Awesome.

Has anyone ever given you roses?
You don't bring me roses anymoooorreee....(ya know, the song?)

If you were abandoned in the wilderness, would you survive?
Not unless I was Tom Hanks and had a cool volleyball to keep me company

Who do you text the most?
The FBI to tell them where my sisters are cause those crazy girls have GOT TO BE Americas Most Wanted

How do you make your money?
I would tell you but I don't want to spend another night in the clink

First person to text today?
1-800-Fast-Cash asking if I needed an emergency loan.
I said yes, and then they told me I would have to pay it back! Bastards!!

What is your favorite color?
Blood Red

What color are your eyes?
Depends on my mood.
Sometimes brownish, green when I cry and yellow when I'm lying

What is a compliment you receive often?
Nice rack

How tall are you?
5'4"

Do you like your parents?
More than the Menendez brothers.
LOL

Do you secretly like someone?
I secretly like my husband but don't tell him

Why did your last relationship end?
Because he was a dirty little whore

Who was the last person you said you loved on the phone?
A bill collector

Where is the furthest place you've traveled?
To hell and back.

Which do you prefer, to eat or sleep?
I like to eat in my sleep

Do you look more like your mom or your dad?
I look like the mailman

How long does it take you to shower?
depends on if I use soap

Can you do splits?
Only banana ones

Are you flexible?
I bend like a crazy straw. Thats why Tim married me.

What did you do on New Years Eve?
Your mom.

Was your mom there?
Read the above question

Can you speak any other language than English?
I speak evil

What is the last letter of your middle name?
E

How many hours of sleep did you get last night?
8 wonderful pain pill induced coma hours

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?
I still sit in a booster seat

Are you scared of flying?
I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky.

What do you sleep in?
My bed

Do you like funny people or serious people?
Seriously funny people

What are you listening to?
The Circus music in my head

What jewelry do you wear all the time?
my cock ring

What do you have planned for tonight?
I am going to romance myself and then take advantage of myself

Is the last person you kissed older than you?
I don't kiss and tell. My husband gets jealous.

Do you prefer myspace or socialsplash?
Facebook. Oh, and Socialsplash sounds like something I might need antibiotics for later.

Do you have a favorite item of clothing?
My pink sparkly thong that glows in the dark.

Do you like messages or comments better?
I like when people comment on messages

Last movie you saw in theaters?
I haven't been in a theater since the uncomfortable incident where me and pee Wee Herman were in the same row.

Last thing you ate?
A pain pill

What was last thing you drank?
My last victims blood

Are you happy right now?
duh, i took a pain pill

If you could have one thing right now what would it be?
My body at 18

Who makes you happiest right now?
Me having surgery means I get to spend time with my family

What were you doing at midnight last night?
i thought I told you I had an alibi!!!

Are you left handed?
Only when I kill my victims

What was for dinner tonight?
Liver and cauliflower stew

What is the last thing you thought about?
Why I ate liver and cauliflower soup

When is your birthday?
Everyday is my birthday.
Buy me something!

Do you want to get married & have children one day?
I just say No

Enjoy the Peep Show

Today is Easter, and this is usually a joyous day for me, not so much because of the religious implications, but because this is where my true ninja skillz come into play as I partake in the stealing of my kids chocolates and sweets. I revel in the sugary, marshmellowy goodness of a headless Peep as I make its beheaded body dance across my leg just before I inhale it. I long for the chocolately smooth goodness of a Reese’s peanut butter egg or the succulent sweetness of a handful of red jelly beans.

Instead I am reduced to eating a single piece of geriatric chocolate to fill the urge a couple of times a week. I am hooked on Russell Stover’s sugar free mint patties. I want to sit here and eat them like it’s my full time job, and I want to eat so many, so fast that I get a promotion for it.

The baskets sit on the table and the stupid little bunny rabbit faces on the front of the baskets leer at me, almost saying “neener, neener, neener, you can’t have this you stupid, fat, surgery having moron” and I want to take their cute, fuzzy little ears, and rip them off and shove them down the garbage disposal. What can I say? I’m in the holiday spirit.

I am constantly being reminded of how drastically my life is changing. With every passing birthday, holiday, special event and with the roaming smells of people BBQ’ing outside, I get a little more accustomed to dealing with the fact that things are just different now, and maybe this change isn’t such a bad thing. I am resigning myself to the idea that I have to find new ways to fill the voids in my life than with candy and food and alcohol. I’m really starting to like walking, I find myself rarely turning on the TV anymore so I can read or write, and my body feels better than it has in 10 years.

I feel young again. I don’t feel burdened by cancer and depression and constant weight gain. I don’t self loathe anymore or spend days on the couch waiting for the world to change and bend to my will. Instead I use the frustration and turn it into positive energy and I get my fat ass off the couch and do something other than whine about things I can no longer change. Life is too short to waste it wishing on shooting stars or planning it according to online horoscopes. I will determine my own fate, make my own destiny and plot my own journey.

I take inventory of my life up till now and I am shocked by what a sweets whore I had become. I was ruled and controlled by late night binges on tiny, lovely Butterfingers and pints of chocolately ice cream. I was dancing the tango with macadamia/chocolate chip cookies and falling into bed with bags of miniature candy bars. It was dirty and degrading, and although I loved the way it made me feel at the time, now I realize our rendezvous were tainted with cellulite and love handles. It makes me feel a little used and I am a jilted lover, but as they say, time heals all wounds. And stretch marks.

And if I can’t partake in chocolate love making or sugary orgasms anymore, then it is the price I will just have to pay in order to fit into smaller jeans that will make my husband sing “Oooohh baby I love your ways, everyday”.

Happy Easter Everybunny! Hope all my "Peeps" have a Hip Hoppity kind of day :)

Till Death (or Justified Homicide) Do Us Part

My husband and I have made a pact. He is not allowed to die until we are old and bored with each other. There are two reasons behind this pact: 1) First, dying sucks. It’s a messy business that I have no time for. C) Second, I don’t ever want to date again. The second reason alone is enough to make me burn any DNR proxy he might fancy himself. Let me tell you why.

First, I have no social filter anymore. That little swinging door between your brain and your mouth that filters out the garbage broke a long time ago. Random thoughts and words flow freely from my mouth like a rusty spigot. And I don’t care. Because if the truth hurts, and you can’t handle it, then maybe, just maybe it’s time for you to grow a pair and man up. I believe life is too short for misguided truths and polite white lies. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Dirty jokes, random racist/socialist remarks, and the occasional limerick have all been known to spew forth like an oil leak in my brain. Because I am old enough and I have dealt with enough crap in my life to warrant a little idon’tgiveafuck-edness.

Second, grooming. Need I say more? Don’t get me wrong, I am a hygienically conscious person. I don’t leave the house in sweats with two day old greasy hair. I brush my teeth a few times a day, and shower on a regular basis. I am talking about the waxing-shaving-plucking-curling and straightening of it all. If I had to go back to making sure to shave my legs and my lady space every single day on the off chance that I might have sex or that some random man might decide this was a Lady Bic commercial and run his hand up my thigh….well, let’s just say I would rather shoot myself in the face with a flare gun. Twice. I have nightmares of having to run to the grocery store in full makeup, wearing 6” stilettos in the hopes that I will meet Mr. Man while feeling up a cantaloupe. I just don’t have time for that anymore. Give me boring married sex on the couch at 2 in the afternoon while the kids are outside playing so can go to sleep whether or not I shaved anyday of the week.

Plus, there is all the meeting of the family and friends and putting on your happy, smiley, look how perfect I am, face and that is just plain exhausting. And retarded. Because eventually they are going to figure out I am an ADD, rambling, happy drunk who spends too much money on shoes and occasionally farts in public. That’s just me.

So, it is written that my husband is not allowed to die until I say so. Because we are married and that is a law I am allowed to create if he ever wants to see me naked or have me touch his manhood ever again. That’s not to say justified homicide or divorce are out of the question, but both of those things would happen on my own terms and that is a story for another day.

Thigh miss you so much

A miraculous thing is transforming and I must say, it makes me smile a little wider today. Despite my hatred for all things treadmill, my thighs are getting smaller. The odd thing, I wasn't the first to notice it. I sauntered down the stairs in a pair of jeans that were too small on me this time last year, only to have my hubby say, I can tell your legs are getting smaller. If we didn't have somewhere to go right at that moment, those sexy jeans might have come off. But I digress.

I have noticed that my thighs don't overlap one another when walking anymore. They stroll together nicely, side by side, touching gently like two strangers passing in the night. It's a beautiful love story. As time goes by they will grow distant and will hopefully never touch again, but the memory of their past closeness will forever remain in their memories. Ahhhhh love......

A couple of nights ago my husband agreed to accompany myself and the dogs on a neighborhood journey. Being the overly ambitious person I am lately, I pushed myself hard and realized a very important thing - maybe the treadmill isn't so bad after all. It's steady and easy to pace, there are no broken sidewalks or tree roots to jump out and attack you, and when I get tired or get a muscle cramp, I can turn it off and I am already home. Oh, and the couch is much closer when I don't want to walk anymore. 'Cause if you lie on someone elses lawn to take a nap, they tend to not like that.

So, while I am over obsessing on other disturbing areas of my body, and fidgeting on the scale everyday frustrated that the weight hasn't all fallen off yet and that I don't look like Pam Anderson running the beaches of Baywatch, at least my thighs are cooperating.

Random Thoughts Thursday

Why do my dogs lick each others eyeballs? Is this where their sex glands are located? Is it some perverted form of doggy foreplay? I don’t know, but it creeps me out because everytime I look over and see one of them licking the eyeball of the other, I picture my own eyeball being licked, and that does not turn me on. If Tim every licked my eyeball in some weird form of ancient Chinese foreplay, I would stick a pen in his eye. And rotate it.

If you have a 10 year old son who still hasn’t mastered the art of putting the toilet seat up, flushing when he is done, and washing his hands, is that considered a handicap? And if so, can I get one of those nifty blue placards to hang in the window of my van? I mean really, why is this a lesson I have to teach more than a dozen times? I do not appreciate the smell of pungent first pee of the morning urine stewing in my pot when I go to brush my teeth. It is not pleasing to my nose and it pretty much screws with the rest of my day.

Can you sue a flat chested woman for false advertising if she is a Victoria-Secret-super-push-up-bra-accompanied-by-chicken-cutlets-under-the-boobs wearing woman that you take home and realize upon nakedness has the chest of a 12 year old boy? I think you should be able to. I mean, I don’t go out wearing a super slimming Spanx girdle that makes me look like I’m a size 8, only to get me home and have me explode onto your mattress like day old yeast. It’s only fair.

How do we live in a place called “the land of the free” when we have the highest rate of incarceration than anywhere else in the world? Should we re-label it “land of the free as long as you don’t rape, murder, maim, rip off or piss off anyone”?

Transvestites. Why is it ok for you to dress up in an obscene amount of makeup and wear hot pink wigs and sparkly dresses and yet when I do it, people assume I need mental assistance? You dressed up in drag = Fabulosity. Me dressed up in drag = the crazy cat lady. It’s just not fair. You get to belt out Liza Minelli and get paid for it. I dress up like that and they offer me money for something completely different.

Last and most important random thought for the day: Why, oh why, have they not made my life a reality show? We will sit and watch trailer trash 16 year old girls and their baby daddy drama, or 20 something’s with too much money from mommy and daddy who spend a half hour shopping and saying “like” and “totally”, but we won’t watch a 35 year old mom of two whose ex-husband left her to be with her cousin, and had a baby? My life is reality. Follow me around in my sweats as I spend my days making meals I don’t want to eat, deal with an ADHD son with no common sense, an 11 year Diva who thinks she is 25, a husband who stares at me like a three headed goat when I yell, and enough crazy relatives and friends to fill an episode of Hee Haw. That’s reality.

What's your random thought for the day?