What I Did Last Weekend.

For the last few weeks I have been planning a Christmas Open House for my neighbours and new friends. I had a hard time deciding if I was actually going to host this party. My family was on stand-by minute to minute. Yes…no…maybe. "Well now I bought Christmas bathroom towels, so I guess we have to have the party. Hey look the invitations are 60% off; it’s like it’s meant to be!" I decided to host a party based on the price of cards and bathroom towels. After a lot of procrastination I wrote out the invitations to our bash, but to be perfectly honest I didn’t know all of our neighbour’s names, so I left the cards blank. I hand delivered the invitations door-to-door. I used to sell vacuum cleaners door-to-door, so I won’t lie to you; it was a little nerve racking talking to strangers, and inviting to my home nonetheless.

I was very lucky David and Holly supported my crazy party idea. We shopped for the perfect plastic Christmas table covering, Christmas tree ornaments, napkins, cups, and everything else you might possibly need for a party. I even bought mistletoe; I don’t know what in the world I was thinking; meet’em and kiss’em? Wow this is a friendly house! You’ll be happy to know that we put the mistletoe in the far corner, and to my knowledge it wasn’t used. I have always wanted to have a Christmas party that included mistletoe, so this party qualified.

I was positive that only a few people would show up, but to my happy surprise over 50 people made an appearance! Our home was packed, and I was thrilled. They ate our food and drank our wine; it was the best Christmas present I have ever received. Speaking of presents, our guest brought so many wonderful gifts-it was amazing! I am glad we opened our home to our neighbours, and friends. We are new to the area, so now we feel a little more connected and at home. I finally get what Christmas is about. It is about people, and sharing the season with them. I can’t wait to host next year’s open house.

As for the mistletoe it has gone to good use. David has started to carry it around the house with him, and wherever I am the mistletoe happens to be. I am so flattered. He says that maybe he is abusing it, but I told him that it won’t be considered abused until May.

Anyone Got A Light?

I have been trying to write for a few days, but I am hitting a wall. I think it is because I haven’t been dealing with something that has been weighing heavily on my mind. I am so tired of keeping it bottled up that the pressure has caused my whole body to be exceptionally tired. Even my fingers are tired they feel as if I clenching them for two weeks straight. What I am about to say is personal. I don’t know who reads my blog, maybe no one does, but I have to say it anyway…

Last month a dear friend and I broke off our relationship. I decided that it would be in our best interest to go our separate ways after receiving an email from her. She was upset about my weight loss surgery, and the changes I was expressing. I believe she likes me better overweight. She said that she wasn’t ready to support me, and didn’t know if or when she would be ready to support me. We were friends since we were children, and I thought we would friends until our dying day. There is a lot of “baggage” on both of our parts that finally come to pass. I have to admit my dreams of forever were just pipe dreams.

My other friends and family who understand the history between my friend and I are happy to see us part company. In fact they are all relieved. I am sure most of their anger is in part due to the pain I have exhibited during the last few weeks. But here is the rub: while everyone is having a ticker-tape-parade about our separation- I am here feeling heartbroken. It is hard for me to find anyone to talk to, because most people that I confide in have a hard time containing their happiness. It is hard to talk to someone when they are thrilled that you cut someone out of your life that they deemed toxic. However I want to scream, “What about my pain? Like her or not- she was a big part of my life, and I happen to think she was special.”

Am I supposed to pick myself up and move on? Yeah, because that is what I have done. I am working out, taking care of myself, keeping busy, and planning a party. I am doing what is expected of me.

I would have been fine, except someone important to me told me that this could have been avoided if I had just protected myself. Apparently, I am too open, thereby leaving an opportunity for people to hurt me. I need to keep secrets. For instance: if she never knew about my surgery then we could still been friends. In short: I need to keep secrets from all of you. I need to refrain from showing you how happy I am, because it may cause some of you to blow out my light. Knock me down. I need to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve, because it makes me vulnerable. Because of the “event” and this conversation my spirit feels ripped apart. I want to cry, because if this is what I have to do to protect myself then what is the point? To me life is about experiences and happiness. I have had so much joy robbed from me in the last three years; that every little bit I get is a gift. I don’t want to hide it away like a miser; I want to share it with the world! What I have a hard time understanding is this: I don’t want to hurt other people. My intentions are to light to other people’s burnt out candles; not to stomp it out. I thought most people shared my values. Now I feel stupid, lonely, confused, but I am still determined to get through this.

As for my friend and I…we can never have a relationship again. I know when things are not good for either of us, and this relationship was not healthy. I wish somebody would understand how much this is hurting, and no be so damn happy with the fact she is gone. I know in time I will find a proper perspective for this special past relationship, and it will be something that I can take with me on my journey. Her voice will always be with me, and her goodness will always be in my heart. I wish she could have loved me thick or thin.

I am just telling everyone who is reading this that I am refusing to cover up my light! If you want to stomp on it; I say bring it on, because I am stocking up on matches! To the person who criticizes my heart on my sleeve, if you don’t like it…there is the door! I don’t feel better yet, but I am a fighter, so don’t worry too much about me.

I Never Gave Up...And See I Got the Man!

I believe if you work hard; anything can be conquered. As an adult I carry that belief with me today. I literally believe “Anything is possible.” Don’t get me wrong my beliefs have caused me to have bumpy roads. When it would be in my best interest to give up and just go with the flow I keep fighting, and at times my stubbornness can make things a little more complicated.

Whenever I think something is impossible I remember the story of how David and I fell in love:

It was the summer of 1990. I had just turned 16, and I was having the time of my life. My best friend Jenny had a friend and his name was David. He was 21, and he was in university. He was blonde, blue eyed, tanned; just the sight of him stopped my heart. He was kind to me, but because of my age I was almost invisible to him.

I spent the summer at Jenny’s house, because my parents were out of the province. Just my luck Jenny had a pool; talk about an opportunity! David and his friends would come by to swim. (There is a smile on my face as I write this; I just thought you ought to know.) Jenny was aware that I liked David, so bless her heart she made sure that I was able to hang out with him. Sometimes he noticed me, but he was concerned about our age difference, therefore he would “make fun of me.” Throughout the summer I was becoming more determined to get him to like me.

One night Jenny, David, and I were hanging out; it was dinner time. I knew David would be going home soon, but I didn’t want him to. I offered to buy everyone pizza for dinner. Everyone agreed pizza would be a fabulous idea. I went to the bathroom to do a happy dance! While in the bathroom I heard David tell Jenny, “I wish she would just buy the pizza, and then leave.” My heart was broken. I stayed in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do next. Should I go out and confront him, or pretend I didn’t hear what he said? I decided that I would follow through with my promise. I would eat dinner, and then go home. I was wrong about David; he didn’t like me.

I came out of the bathroom and ordered the pizza. We decided to order ham and pineapple. I acted like I hadn’t heard what Meanie David had said, and tried to have a good time. The pizza arrived. We began to eat, but for some reason my pineapple kept falling off my pizza; I couldn't keep even one piece on my slice. Jenny was having no problems with her pineapple. However, Meanie David was also dropping his pineapple. For some reason we both notice that we were both dropping our pineapple and we found this hilarious. Our pineapple started dropping in sync; it was hopeless. It must’ve been magic pineapple because David started being nice to me! He even sat beside me, and his skin against mine was electric. I could’ve died right there.

Jenny and I continued to hang out with the David and the guys. He started paying attention to me! He was charming and sweet. I decided to make my move. I got all dressed up, and went over to his house. My intentions were to tell him that I had a massive crush on him. ( I am shaking my head as I write this.) He opened the door with a smile and welcomed me in. Good start. We made small talk for about an hour, as this is the first time we had been alone. My heart was pounding; what was I thinking? Here goes nothing:

(I totally remember this conversation…)

Me: I have to tell you something…
David: Really?
Me: I have a REALLY big crush on you. I mean I REALLY like you.
David: Wow… you are impatient aren’t you?
Me: What do you mean?
David: If you had waited a little longer I was thinking of asking you on date.
(OH MY GOD HE LIKES ME TOO!)
Me: How come you never told me!
David: I was going to…next week.

I did it! I did it! I did it! We talked for an hour. I don’t remember what we talked about. He walked me home and gave me a hug. Sometimes if I try really hard I can still feel that first hug.

I started to brag to my friends that a university guy was TOTALLY into me! I brought one of them to David’s house; you know to show off. He came to the door, and he looked good. He was dressed up, his hair was done, and he even smelled good. Score one for David on first impressions.

Me: Hi David
David: What are you doing here?
(What am I doing here? I am the love of your life remember?)

Me: I just thought that I would introduce you to my friend Lisa.
David: I am sorry; I can’t talk now. I have to go out.
Me: Where?
David: I have a date
(A WHAT? Are you kidding? I thought you liked me.)

Now this is where it gets sad….
Me: Can we just come in for a minute?
David: No
Me: I want to show Lisa your pool table; she has never seen one.
David: I doubt that is true.
Me: She comes from Antarctica, and they don’t have pool tables there. It is true…tell him Lisa!
Lisa: Okay let’s go Amy.
David: Bye Amy.

The door shut.
Lisa: Yup…he REALLY likes YOU!
Me: Shut up!

Needless to say I was in a foul mood for the rest of the day; poor Lisa. I made a promise that I would never see that jerk David again! The next day the gang was hanging out at the Jerk’s house. Jenny called and begged me to come over. After three calls I finally went over, but just to yell at him. When I got there they were playing pool, ouch! David comes up to me and tells me that he arranged last night’s date before my "confession of love", and he was sorry for embarrassing me in front of my friend. Just then the phone rang; it was his date from last night! He told her that he couldn’t talk, and then he came back to me!

For the rest of the summer he teased me like a brother would tease a little sister. I think that was mainly because David had understandable issues liking someone so much younger. We had a few dates, which were magical; he was always a perfect gentleman. On August 16 he asked me to be his girl friend. He was really nervous, and it was sweet.

It has been over 17 years; we have not been apart since that day. When he walks in the room my heart still does a flip, when he sits beside me there is still electricity. I don’t think I will ever love another man as much as I love David.

What seemed impossible to everyone else; was doable to me. I knew I would end up with David. He told me that he fell in love with me while we were eating the ham and pineapple pizza. If I had given up when my heart was breaking in the bathroom, which was my lowest point I would not have David today. That would be the biggest tragedy of my life, for no one loves me more than he does.

Broken Promises

I broke my goal to Curves three times a week. I admit it; there are no secrets between us. I was supposed to go today with my two friends who keep me honest, but they went without me. (Now I am on the naughty list.) I went to the doctors instead. It was an interesting story…

Enter in my dog Simon who loves his rubber peppermint ball. He doesn’t know an appropriate place to leave his toys at night. He left his ball at the top of the stairs; maybe he thought it would be a convenient place to pick it up in the morning. It was early Monday morning last week; I got out of bed and headed downstairs. I didn’t make it down right-side-up. I slipped on the ball and went down on my bum. (Thump, thump, thump.) OUCH! Although I didn’t say ouch; I said some other four letter words that I have edited for content.

I went on with my week and I was sore, but I expected it. I even went to Curves, and gritted my teeth when the pain hit my tailbone. Then Saturday we decided to trim the house for Christmas. It is my job to put the lights on the tree. (To this day I don’t know how David got me to agree to that.) I was crouching up and down putting the lights on. I guess my bum wanted a time-out, because all the sudden I could not get up, and I could not sit down. Standing became my new favourite position, and lying down became the runner-up.

To make a long story short: I am not exercising for a couple of weeks until my tailbone heals.

As for Simon, he still leaves his ball where ever he pleases. I will take him for his walks, but they will be short and slow. He is urging me to hire a dog walker, but I think we should be in this together.

Confessions of a Cheater

I have to confess to you all that I have cheated on a dear friend yesterday. It all started when my “check engine” light went on in my car. I took my white VW beetle in for repair like any responsible owner would. I thought it would be an easy fix, but it turned out to be a complicated three day job. Marsha (yes that is my car’s name.) was going to be in the shop until Friday. The folks at Volkswagen were so nice about the delay that they offered me a loaner car for my troubles. I took them up on their offer because I did have places to go and people to see. I got to the dealership and they gave me the keys to the loaner car, which was a new Jetta. What are the odds it was parked right next to Marsha? I actually felt guilt as I got into the loaner car. I looked over to my sweet little bug and I promised that I would return, and there is no other car that I loved more than her. (I said this in my head…thank goodness, but you get the idea.)

You see for as long as I can remember I have loved the VW beetle. I have always wanted one. When I got one; I said it was the only car I will ever drive from here on out. My next car is going to be a VW convertible beetle. It is the plan, and it is a solid plan. As long as VW makes them; I will buy them.

I am on my way to Langley which is 60 km from Chilliwack. I am running 45 minutes behind schedule. I get on the freeway, and give the Jetta a little gas…and I start to FLY! It is just me, my mp3 player, and the road! I am cruising at 160 km an hour and I don’t even notice. Whoops! I am alive and I know it is just a car, but I feel something as I drive down the freeway…freedom. I want this car! As much as I love Marsha she isn't able go this fast. (FYI- I did stop speeding, but for that few minutes that I was speeding it was heaven!)

After shopping with my dear friend Lara I headed for home. It took all the strength I had not to haul ass to Nova Scotia in the Jetta. I think I could have driven all night.

As I was driving I reflected on my stubbornness- all this time I had been limiting myself. I can be very narrow-minded in my thinking. I am not saying that is a totally bad thing, but it can inhibit me from experiencing more flavours of the world. As I was speeding down the highway I began to wonder what I have been missing out on? Now I want to go out and see how all the other VW cars measure up. (Hey I am still brand loyal.) I decided from here on out that I would open up my mind, and try new things... you know become adventurous.

As I pulled into my driveway (I did go home.) I also thought this: it is important to know that some things are "my absolute favourites" without a doubt. I made a list: My sweet daughter, she is one of a kind. I love her so much. Just her saying to me, “Good morning Mom,” in the morning completes my day. My husband, I already know that I have the best there is. He is an amazing man! My family…I don’t think I change them out anyway. My friends, they are each special to me, and can not be replaced. Lastly, Starbucks coffee- I tried other brands already, and I know that I am drinking the Cadillac of coffees, so why change?

As for Marsha and me we will be together for a long time. I am going to keep Marsha until she doesn’t want to run anymore. It still makes me happy to be in a little white bubble bouncing down the freeway. I liked the Jetta, but I LOVE not having car payments more.

Who Are They?

This just happened no more than five minutes ago. I was in the kitchen with David while he was doing the dishes. We were discussing the merits of geometry. I hate geometry so much. I don’t know why it’s important to know how far a tree is going to cast its shadow at noon. (If you need to know about shadow casting for your profession or your hobby my apologies.) So our conversation went something like this:


Me: I am very good at math thank you very much.
David: Well...yeah but you sucked at geometry.
Me: Geometry is not math! You don’t need geometry for anything useful.
David: You need it for building bridges and things.
Me: When is the last time you built a bridge? Is there bridge building on your calendar next week and you forgot to it jot down?
David: No.
Me: See, geometry was a bloody waste of time. It was because they thought it would be a good idea to torture students.
David: Who are “they”?
Me: You know “them”. You know “those guys”. You know “they.”
David: Oh “THEY.” (Nodding his head; finally getting who “they” were.) I want to know “who” is passing on everything “they” say.
Me: Ooooo that is a good point. I wonder why what “they” say gets around so much…


When did “they” become so powerful, and who are “they”? I can’t remember them as a child, so I think “they” are fairly new to the scene. I am certain “they” were not around when I was five, because when I was wearing my green cord pants with my red and yellow top, and my Mary Jane's to round out my outfit I was not worried out what “they” would think.

Does anyone out there know who “they” are? Are they are group, a committee, a panel, or what?

I catch myself quoting them all the time…Well, “they” say this…and "they" say that...

I also buy into the dumb ideas “they” feed me… If “they” say citronella-yellow is the new black this season who am I to argue?

I also really care about what “they” think. If my house is a little messy I have to clean it because… What will “they” think if “they” see my house this way? I guess on a positive note “they” motivate me to keep my house clean.

Am I nuts? I don’t even know who “they” are. I find that I am not the only one who is victim to “they”. If you ask someone who “they” are, sometimes the person will tell you “they” are “everybody”. Wow I guess it is a committee!

In our society we have a bad case of “they-syndrome”. I have it too. I care too much what “they” think, and for the wrong reasons. If you are like me, and you have "they-syndrome" you can do the following things to break the cycle:

1. Stop spreading the word of what “they” say.
2. Stop caring about what “they” think
3. If you get invited to become a “them” or a “they”; decline and stay a “you”.
4. Don’t do things based on what “they” want you to do. This just encourages "them". Just be true to yourself. Trust me you will be much happier.

In the past I always thought that if I lost weight "they" would like me better, or "they" would accept me. What I have come to realize that "they" were always "me". I was the one criticizing my looks, my actions, or my beliefs. Now that I know my thinking was flawed I have to stand up and trust myself, love myself, and most importantly accept myself. It is time for me to start feeling good in my own skin. As for today, I am feeling okay. I am wearing a blue top and black pants that do not match. (My five year old self would be proud.) My hair isn't styled, because I am going to workout, and I am proud of myself. In the end that is all that matters.

December Goals

For those of you that know me know that I am a goal freak. I can turn anything into a goal; I will find a way. As you know it is the start of the month…well I am a little late, but close enough. I have decided to write down my goals for the month of December. I will become accountable to myself and everyone who reads this blog. Damn, December is a really tough month…ugh. January would be better. Suck it up buttercup:

In December according to various Google sites the average American gains 7 – 10 pounds during the holidays. So I plan to go in the opposite direction.

My December weight loss goal is to lose 8.5 pounds.

Exercise is very important so here it goes:

Curves 3 times a week
Yoga once a week
Two one hour walks

Food is pretty much taken care of for me, but I still have trouble getting down water so my goal is:

Drink 64oz of water daily.

Sorry my post is so short today, but I am off to Curves, and I have to go make an excel spread sheet (of course). Thank you all for watching my back!

Snow

My first roommate loved Christmas. It was a good thing that we were poor and could not have afforded a fake tree, or I would have been forced to trim that sucker in September! When she moved out she did get a fake tree. I bet her $100.00 that she could not keep it up all year long. She happily took me up on the wager. I almost lost the bet, but due to personal reasons she had to take the tree down in March. If $100.00 hadn’t been worth a million dollars to me back then I might have paid her for her effort. If I see her this year I will make the bet again, and who knows? Don’t misunderstand me I like Christmas; I would just like to decorate for Christmas later than Halloween.

However, the other thing my roommate loved was snow. As soon as the colder weather fell upon us I would wake up to hear her humming “Let it Snow” in the kitchen. Maybe it was because of her passion or her love for snow, but I found myself liking snow a very small amount. I started to appreciate the first snow flakes falling on the ground. I liked it when we would go out onto the balcony, and catch snow flakes on our tongues. Sometimes we would walk around the neighbourhood just as it was starting to snow. It wasn’t it all bad.

My fondness for snow was very short lived. I would start humming “Let it rain”. I hate to give you the impression that I am insensitive but I have reasons. We did not have any transportation at the time. This meant that we had to take bus to work and school everyday. Waiting for the bus in a skirt in freezing temperatures was bad enough, but sometimes the bus would just drive by without stopping! For those of us who live in the lower-mainland where I live; can tell you waiting sixty minutes for a bus is no fun! It also meant that the roads were icy and therefore slippery, which always meant a few bruises on my tailbone from falling on ice. Snow also gets dirty really quickly; it goes from pure white to dirty brown, and who wants to look at that? In my opinion snow makes easy things complicated.

What is the point of my rant? Well this weekend I experience one of the biggest snow dumps of my recent memories. Yesterday it snowed about a foot and half. Now for those of you that live further east; I know what you’re thinking…”What is the big deal? It snows that much over lunch.” I sat here yesterday pissed off at the snow, because I could not go for my daily walk. It was snowing so heavy that I couldn’t see through the snow. I did venture outside to see if I could go for a romantic walk with David, but it was useless. More importantly I had an appointment today with my surgeon who did my lap-band, but I think his office decided to close up shop. Now I have to wait to get a fill*. Maybe I am the only one who has issues with snow, and the rest of you are humming along with my roommate.

I decided that I am moving somewhere warm. What is the point of venting if you don’t do anything about it? I can’t move for another ten years or so, because it wouldn’t be fair to Holly. I will wait until she moves out; then David and I are heading for the sun and surf. While you all are making snow angels I will be making sand angels. I can withstand all the snow dumps Chilliwack throws at me if I know that it won’t be forever.

To my sweet roommate: I love your Christmas spirit and thank you for not giving up on me as a grinch. Each December when I trim my house and hang my outdoor lights I think of you and smile. I could have never asked for a better friend.


Below is a picture of David and me at Newport Beach in California. Look how happy we are with the sunshine around us. (David: you are gorgeous~ I love you so much!) This picture

was taken five days before my surgery.

*Fill: You need to have restriction around your stomach to feel full. As you lose weight the band becomes loose, and needs to be tightened. When you lose restriction you have a harder time losing weight, because you don’t feel full as easily when the band was tight. To tighten the band the doctor injects saline into the band. The procedure does not hurt and is not dangerous; it is necessary for the lap-band to keep doing its job

Footnote: I called my doctor this afternoon and he was in fact open, so I did get my fill after all. This has made me very happy.

Shopping For Clothes

I think I have this whole thing backwards. I am also sure I am not the only one, as I know there are many more like me in the world. It is what I like to call: Buying “getting fat clothes” versus buying “losing weight clothes”.

During the last few years I have put on weight. I won’t go into the reasons, or the excuses. I’ll save that for another day. The truth is month after month I got bigger. I would get upset, and head for the malls. What is a girl to do? I have to look good don’t I? How can possibly go on living if I don’t have decent clothes to wear? Through my tears I would find my way to the stores and drag myself into the dressing rooms to find the prefect “feel better outfits.” I would tell myself, “No matter what the cost I must buy it; if it looks good on me. I deserve that much!” Sometimes I would bring an entourage of friends along to cheer me on as I went store to store. I came home with my new clothes, hung them up neatly in my closet, and promised to never grow out of them. Sadly after a few months, or even as short as a few weeks my new clothes and I would no longer mesh together due to weight gain, thus the cycle would repeat. Each and every time it happened I was determined to find the perfect “fat” clothes as I went up and up in sizes. I had to be trendy and comfortable.

This is where the backwards thinking comes into it…

I am losing weight, and my clothes are falling off of me. To let you know how loose they are: I shimmy up the stairs to see if I can wiggle out of my pants. I make it half way up, and my pants are at my ankles. It is kind of embarrassing when we have company. It gives a new meaning to dinner and a show! As my clothes are becoming less fitted people feel the need to giving me shopping advice. Shopping advice really? Just to recap: If you have muffin top syndrome nobody tells you when to go shopping, but if you are lucky enough to droopy drawers then people find it necessary to point out the nearest store. At least we are a polite society. Here is shopping advice that most people have been giving me: go down to my local thrift shop and buy my “new” smaller clothes there. Did I miss something? I know the argument; if I am going to lose more weight why throw more money away on clothes you won’t wear very long.

Let me get this straight: Now, I am feeling totally awesome; I have to go to the thrift shop. Before, I was feeling totally crappy; I went to the mall and paid retail. Hmmm….backwards thinking I am sure of it.

Now please do not misunderstand me. I don’t hate thrift shops. Well I do a little bit, but if you like them; then I like them for you. I am writing this post because for a few moments I actually considered this plan of action. Then I discarded it, and there were a few pangs of guilt. How could I knowingly be so wasteful? Backwards thinking! Don’t misunderstand me I certainly don’t think that if you gain weight you should have to go shop at thrift shops either. I happen to think retail therapy is a great idea for whatever situation you find yourself in. However I work very hard to lose weight it would be a total bummer to wear someone else’s “fat” clothes, as I am not quite in “skinny” clothes yet. I feel that if you lose weight then you it is your duty to look “hot-damn” at all times. So what if I only wear those kick-ass jeans for two weeks? I will enjoy every second of those jeans until they fall off of my hips. Then back to the mall I go. That is a cycle I can’t wait to repeat again and again. Now if only I could get a loan for clothes.

Let's See Some Pictures Already!

This picture was taken in June of 2007. I was paddling down the river in Egypt about my weight issue. "Oh I look good; it's not that bad,” I would say. In July I got real about my weight problem, and decided enough was enough. I made arrangements to have weight loss surgery. It is not the "easy" way out. I work very hard everyday; my butt is exercising, and good eating habits are a must. For me this was about saving my life, and maybe just maybe looking cute in sassy clothes.











The picture on the right was taken six weeks prior to surgery. I am in Las Vegas having the time of my life! We walked over ten hours a day for four days. Now I look at the picture and I am proud of myself. Given my size and that I was able to carry all of my weight, and still be smiling that is a true accomplishment!



October 3rd, 2007: Delta Hospital. 30 minutes before surgery. I am totally not worried about anything. As far as I am concerned this is the best thing that is going to happen to me thus far! (And somehow I still think I am sexy in hospital socks and booties!)

This is one month ago. I think it's going well. I have lost 35 pounds.

I will put up more current pictures, but it is a matter of getting them out of the digital camera and on to the computer.

Ode to My Crazy Scale.

Have you ever done something that you swore you would never do? I mean really swore yourself to it. These may be some examples: Drink the water in Mexico on a dare; of course you are three sheets to the wind when you consent to this. Get married in Vegas during a weekend visit. Send a boat load of money to a foreign country to claim your million dollar "prize."

I am sure you can say without a doubt that you have stuck to your guns, and refrained from such endeavours, and for that I say, "Good for you."

My promise was: I would never ever buy a scale. I was so sure of that I started a following. Maybe you heard of it: “Scales-Are-Evil-Bad-And-They-Bring-Nothing-But-Heartache”. Instead of buying a scale I bought a soapbox. I would stand on my soapbox, and preach about the evils of bathroom scales. My message was simple: Throw out your scales, and live in peace for the rest of your life! I had true conviction; I really did.

One day something wonderful but terrible happened that would change the course of my life forever: PRIDE. If you do not know I had weight loss surgery, and the pounds are coming off! I told myself, and my dear friends that I would only weigh myself at my doctor's office. I made good on my promise. At my first weigh-in I lost 16 pounds in eight days! Can you believe that? I could not either; I made the doctor re-weigh me, but it was true! For the next few days I walked around like a peacock, but then I got to thinking, "How much weight have I lost now?"

The problem was my next appointment wasn't for another four weeks; how was I going to hold out? Could you hold out? After much consideration and a lot of reasoning I went down to Wal-Mart, and bought myself a scale. I promised myself it would be only used once a week. I solemnly swear: “I will not weigh myself daily, hourly, by the minute, or second”. Of course I have to maintain some level of decorum in this situation.

I got home and unpacked my scale. I was pretty excited about my new purchase. I read the instructions carefully... wait a minute let's stop here. Am I missing something? Why does a scale need instructions? Isn't it pretty simple? Step on, look down, and then step off. Never the less I am compliant, so I forge on. I decide that I should weigh myself then and there; you know give it a "spin". I do the normal take-off-all-of-your-heavy-clothes-so-you-get-a-true-reading- which means I stripped down to my skivvies. I got on the scale, and I lost another 10 pounds! I picked up my scale and I hugged it. We are going to be best friends for life; how could I have misjudged you?

The next week...

I took my scale out of the closet. Maybe I should have rethought my new friend’s living arrangements? Never the less we walked to the bathroom, and I stepped on expecting to see another big loss. YES, my friend did not let me down; I lost another 8 pounds! Or did I? I decided to show David my success, so I hopped on the scale guess what? Now I had GAINED 3 pounds from last week. What? I tried it again and again, and it kept reading the same each time: a 3 pound gain. Stupid scale! My husband left the bathroom. I cursed the scale. I suggested that me and the scale may have to break the relationship off. I stepped on one last time, and you know what? This time I LOST 8 pounds! What the hell is going on? So I spent the next 5 minutes weighing myself in all kinds of different positions: front, backwards, sideways all with the same results. I called David back in the bathroom, and again I stepped on the scale. At first it showed the loss, and then it jumped to gain and there it sat not budging. How can there be an 11 pound difference? I put the scale back in the closet, and kicked it for good measure.

Fast forward to today...

We still have the temperamental scale. David now weighs himself on it too. We never get the same weight twice. It does show decreases and increases (unfortunately). I kind of like having a scale that will lie to me. I figure it this way; I still don't know how much I weigh, and in the end isn't that what I really wanted in the first place? So I guess I will have to wait until my next doctor’s visit. Damn my pride.

My First Post- How Original!

So this is it! I am starting my first blog; I can not believe it. I know most of you are thinking it's no big deal, well to me it's a big deal. It is a place where I can talk about what I want. Say whatever I want to say. I have my own little piece of the WWW! If I want to write about the virtues of Starbucks coffee, and how it actually does taste better in the red holiday cups it is my choice. (On a side note: the coffee does taste better in the red holiday cups; I think it is a proven fact.)
To me this is like having a diary with the knowledge that people are going to read it; that is thrilling. I hope tears from laughter stream down youe face as you read entry after enty page of the goings-on of my life.