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.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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