Category Archives: Attitude Adjustment

Don’t be a sheep

Just a note: at first, this is going to seem like a lot of whining about the mechanics of writing a blog and the politics of being married to a man who is occasionally right…but trust me, I have a point…and it’s a good one. You may proceed with reading about the amazing realization I had last night…

I started having one of my “famous meltdowns” last night. They usually start with me staring at the wall with a far off look in my eyes…and when hubby asks me what’s wrong, my usual reply is “I’m so overwhelmed….”  And then I launch into a near hysterical venting session in which he’s tasked with calming me down while successfully managing to not roll his eyes at any of the bat shit crazy crap that comes out of my yap. For the record, he (once again) talked me down off the mental ledge I had put myself on and all is well.

I’ve known married couples who were so alike they were scary, but that’s not the case with the hubs and I. We are polar opposites. I’m very talky, very animated, very silly and snarky…and always doing something. He’s very untalky (it’s a totally a word, trust me), very calm/almost dead, with a touch of sarcasm and is quite talented at the art of making an ass print in his chair. We compliment each other perfectly. He calms me down, I rev him up – unless there’s a crisis, then it’s reversed. For example, when our neighbor “Mr. Underpants” loaned his car to his elderly mother and she crashed it into hubby’s truck so hard that she pushed it through our garage door…I was the calm that kept hubby together. He even told me so when we went back inside after it was over. Then I got all excited because he was so sweet to say that…and was bouncing around and hugging him and being silly…and then he had to calm me down. What can I say…

Whenever I have an extended weekend looming close, my head fills with plans and I start to schedule every minute of every day so that I can feel like I truly accomplished something. My “to do” lists are a mile long. I have one for organizing the house and another for this blog. Last night, they were both freaking me out – but when the hubby asked me what was wrong I jumped into bloggy things first. See, I went to my first ever blogger’s conference last September and I came home with a list of things to do that was four pages long. Since then, I’ve been trying to get control over everything I’ve been told I should be doing and I just can’t seem to get a grip on it.

The blogger’s conference was hella fun, but there was quite a bit of it that was geared towards “Mommy bloggers” and crafting bloggers, coupon sites, and travel related blogs. All of those folks run their blogs for money. Only two of us were blogging our way through a huge weight loss goal – and I never even met the other weight loss blogger.

In fact, I sort of fell into this whole blogging thing ass-backwards. Sorry, asses-backwards. There are things that seasoned, professional bloggers know…like SEO and page ranking. They do HTML coding on their blogs, have editorial calendars for their content, and manage all their social media. They know how to read analytics reports that tell them how much traffic they’re getting. I can barely read my electric bill. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Matt the Webmaster Ninja, this blog would have a solid white background with black type on it and maybe a picture of my dogs…because that shit’s just cute. But now Matt has moved on and is no longer managing the HTML-analytical-hoogy-doogy crazy shit that keeps all this together…and I’m left feeling like a big fat muggle at Hogwart’s.

So there I was, venting frantically to the hubby about HTML and Facebook “likes” and editorial calendars when he has the balls to look right at me and say “Why do you need an editorial calendar? Stop treating your blog like it’s a business. You’re doing this for you.”

That moment when you’re passionately whining about something you know you’re absolutely 100% right about…and then someone pulls your entire argument out from under you and beats you on the head with it? Yeah…there it was.

I sat there for a minute, feeling my meltdown washing away and wondering what to do about it…kind of like the first time I took Ambien and I was torn between going to bed and eating all the dry soup mix in the pantry. It’s confusing and terrifying, but if you sit still long enough the right path becomes clear.

This all started from that blogger’s conference – which was a day well spent, to be sure – however, since then I’ve snapped back into the role of a brainless little sheep and that’s not who I want to be. Once I realized that, the light bulbs really started to go back on…and I think I terrified the hubs a little bit with the wide-eyed expression on my face.

“Are you okay or do you have to fart? I can’t tell…”

He’s charming, isn’t he?

I didn’t have to fart…I was having a major epiphany. I was thinking about the fact that I was 13 years old when my Mom put me on my first diet because The King said I was fat. It was the Scarsdale Diet, I remember…and back then, a healthy diet dinner consisted of a hamburger patty, a few slices of tomato, and a big plop of cottage cheese. Yep. Healthy, huh?

It launched me into a loop of dieting and binging that lasted over 20 years. Scarsdale, Atkins, South Beach, Yogurt, Milkshake diets. Phen Fen, Meridia, Prozac, 5-HTP…I tried everything. I ran with all the other sheep. Every time the diet industry announced another “solution” to my fat problem, I lined up with the rest of the sheep and handed over my money…and failed. Just like all the other sheep.


Let’s get jiggy with individuality!

When I finally decided I’d had enough of listening to people who were making money off of me and capitalizing on my failures, I realized that I had to stop being a sheep. I had to be diligent and spend some time on myself. I had to find out what really works for me long term…and then do it. That’s what this past year has been about: finding real, sustainable change that doesn’t come from a special diet, a magic pill, or surgery. The result? I’ve lost 45 pounds and kept it off for an entire year. I have never kept weight off for this long. Ever. This Princess is on the right track. Finally.

As much as it pains me to admit when he’s right during one of my meltdowns, the hubs was dead on this time. When he asked me why I needed an editorial calendar, I’m ashamed to say that my reply was “Because they said so…” At the blogger’s conference. They said I should have one and, because I have no real idea what I’m doing, I jumped into my sheep suit and ran with the other sheep…never thinking for a minute that editorial calendars make a lot of sense for the mommy and craft bloggers out there and not a lot of sense for me. I’m blogging about a very real, very personal experience. You can’t schedule that shit.

My point? The sheep mentality is dangerous. Don’t let other people make important decisions for you. Don’t follow any plan without examining every detail first and figuring out whether it actually works for YOU or not. And don’t let your husband know he’s right too much or there’ll be hell to pay. Trust me – every time I try to argue a point for the next few months, he’s going to resurrect that moment last night when I realized he was right. Bastard. In fact, as I was spewing out the “Oh my God, you’re right!” of it all last night and he sat there with a self-satisfied smile on his face he had another brilliant idea.

“You know what, babe? This is a blog post right here…what we’re talking about…what you’re realizing.”

Oh shut up already! (He says you’re welcome, by the way…for suggesting that I write about this.) I was tempted to post his cell phone number so that y’all could personally thank him…but I won’t. This time.

We are a perfect match. Total opposites, meant to be. He’s a keeper. Sure, he doesn’t understand that taking out the trash is a two step process…but that just means he’s not perfect.

Step one: take out the trash.
Step two: put a new bag in the fucking trash can…how hard is it!!!

I’m sorry, I was talking about the wonder of marriage and my amazing realization. Yes. Marriage is full of wonder. And also remember not to be a sheep. Finding your own way is the most rewarding thing you can do in the process of embarcing a healthier lifestyle. You only have to answer to yourself. And maybe your doctor. And possibly a spouse who gets a little too happy when you’re wrong and risks getting kicked in the man-snatch.

Perhaps I should put a protective cup in the hubby’s stocking this year. He might need it.

Marbles have moved…

…not into the jar I wanted, though.

I have gained 7 pounds.  Gained.  Me.  I thought I was over this shit.

I plinked 7 marbles back into the “Pounds to Go” jar.

I sat myself down yesterday and took a good hard look at the decisions I’ve been making.  Just sitting down and looking this squarely in the face did me a world of good.  It helped me put some things in perspective.  Mainly:

– First, it’s only 7 pounds. I jumped right on the Coulda Woulda Shoulda train and started beating myself up at first.  Then I got a grip and remembered to be grateful that  I caught this when I did. Not too long ago, I wouldn’t have realized there was a problem until my pants wouldn’t zip…and then I’d just order pizza and give up.

– Second, the fault lies squarely on my shoulders and my shoulders only.  I got a little lazy in a lot of ways:

* I stopped logging my food.  When I finally do hit my goal weight, I’m not always going to log my food…but I think I stopped too soon. (And maybe I will always log it…who knows!)  Add to that the occasional margarita or two…a fork full of peanut butter as a quick snack…and that shit adds up.

* I started grazing.  We don’t keep junk food in the house anymore, so I guess I figured I’d be okay…but an unplanned handful of almonds is a lot of calories right before bed – and I’ve been guilty of that a lot lately.

* I fell back on “convenience eating” a little.  Most junk food and fast food doesn’t appeal to me anymore at all, but there are some places that still tempt me.  Whataburger is one, but that’s easy to avoid because it’s inconvenient for me to go there most days.  The local mom & pop pizza place that makes a delicious large pepperoni pie, however…that’s another thing.  Hot Mess Hubby and I have been too willing to just not cook lately.  Tsk tsk tsk!  I need to remember that I am worth all this trouble…and that includes cooking for myself.

In addition, I’ve been eating out more at work.  Not a huge deal, but if I’m going to eat out more I need to make better choices when I do.  Or work it off on the treadmill.  I’ve done neither.

* I have still not been successful at making exercise a habit.  Tick tock, tick tock…time’s a wasting!


















So this is what’s been going on with me lately.  I’m not going to beat myself up over this, but I did give myself one good solid kick in the ass.  I deserve that.  Now I’m in “fix it mode”.  I can’t just beat myself up and do nothing else…I need to get moving in the right direction.

My solution:

I’m going to start weighing every day again.  See what happens when I don’t?  I get too complacent.  Too much bargaining goes on in my head.  I’m not saying this is what everyone should do, but this is what I have to do.  This is what works for me.  When I stop, this is what happens.

I’m back to logging my food.  I logged today and I have to be honest…I felt a little deprived.  I felt restricted.  I wasn’t happy to feel this way.  I’d been telling myself I was tougher than this.  In reality, I’ve been eating more calories than I need – and because I haven’t been logging my food and haven’t been getting on the scale, I didn’t see it.  I haven’t been using all the wonderful tools I have at my disposal.

No more grazing.  In fact, after dinner I’m going to start drinking hot tea again.  Sometimes I forget that my Keurig brews tea just as well as coffee (which I only have once in the morning).  When I’m hungry after dinner, hot tea is very soothing and helps me feel full.  Plus it’s herbal…and healthy.

Speaking of healthy, I went out and bought healthy food for my mini fridge at work.  I’m only going to eat lunch out once a week.  That’s it.  When I eat out, I’m going to lighten up on other meals and make sure I work out that day.

And finally…come hell or high water…I’m going to make exercise a healthy habit.  I’m going to do it…I just have to figure out what works for me.

Maybe I was being naive, but I really never thought I would have to move any marbles back to the “Pounds to Go” jar.  It was not a good feeling to move those marbles, but I had to.  I gained those pounds back.  It didn’t feel right to let them sit in the “Pounds Lost” jar when they didn’t stick.  If anything, it strengthened my resolve to plink them the hell back into the “Pounds to Go” jar.

This is hitting me at a bad time, but I am the only one to blame.  (And really…when is it a good time?)  I’ve got some extra stress in my life right now.  Our Saint Bernard, Kirby, has a cancerous growth on her back and has to have surgery on Thursday.

This girl…this 120 pound angel in fur…she is my heart & soul.  I’m having a hard time not obsessing about this.  We won’t know anything more until Thursday and I’m just trying to get through it as best I can.  I can’t lose my girl.

As if that wasn’t enough, I’m facing a medical scare myself.  (Is it weird that I’m more upset about my dog’s cancer than about my own medical scare?)  I will share what mine is about after I know what I’m dealing with…and after I’ve told my family & friends.  If there’s anything to tell.  It may be nothing.  That’s what I’m praying for. I have to be sure – and because I’m not feeling well, I’m skipping the treadmill today…and probably tomorrow.

There is a little good news in all this, though.  🙂  I’m attending my very first blogger conference this weekend.  I feel like a “big kid” now…sitting at the grown-up’s table. I’m going to have a great time meeting my fellow bloggers and learning how to produce a better blog!  I’m really looking forward to this weekend…and I’m hoping I’ll have good news from the vet and from my doctor so that I can just enjoy my learning experience.

As soon as I plinked those 7 marbles back in the “Pounds to Go” jar, I promised myself I would focus on the road ahead and stop focusing on my big screw-up – so that’s what I’m going to do.  I gained them back.  Okay.  But you know what?  I’ve lost them before.  They should be scared right now…because here I come again.

With a vengeance.














Have you screwed up?  Put down the pizza and just walk away from it, peeps.  Let’s go.  The only time we really fail is when we stop trying.  Don’t leave me standing on this road all alone. Tell me your story…let me hear from you.  Tell me how you’ve navigated over the setbacks.

Let’s get going…we have work to do.

Yankee Doodle Stress Monster

To my fellow Hot Mess Americans, happy Independence Day!!!

We all have stress to deal with.  Stress levels increase and decrease on life’s rollercoaster…and right now, my stress levels are pretty high.  I’m usually such a ninja when it comes to dealing with stress, I don’t immediately notice when it really starts to get to me.  I’m pretty good at keeping the wall built up so it doesn’t get in.  Yesterday morning, that wall sprung a leak.

The worst part is that it happened at work.  I was sitting at my desk and all of a sudden…tears.  There was nothing that provoked it other than too much thinking about what may or may not happen with all the uncertainty in my life right now.  Tears, emotions…all welling up and spilling over…and I couldn’t stop it.


Part of my stress is coming from work.  We’re in the middle of a major reorganization and bankruptcy.  I should find out in the next week or so if I still have a job.  If I do have a job, it won’t be the same job I have now…so I don’t have any idea what I’ll be doing.  There are other circumstances that I can’t speak about publicly that are quite stressful as well.  It’s not a good situation.  We’re all on pins and needles.  Lay offs are happening.  So imagine my horror when this all welled up…and I struggled to pull myself together before someone walked by and noticed.  With all this going on, a person crying at their desk usually means they didn’t make the cut…and I really didn’t want to alarm my co-workers or start rumors.


I’m not usually a crier – at least not over negative emotions.  Before yesterday, the last time I cried was when I was watching the end of the third Lord of the Rings movie.  It always gets me when Aragorn says to the Hobbits: “My friends, you bow to no one.”  Ugh!  God, that gets me every damn time.  I cry like an idiot.   I’m getting off track here.  My point is that if I’m crying over something bad, you know it’s bad…because I can take on a ton of crap before I reach my breaking point.

I held it together the rest of the day and came home to the Hot Mess Hubby.  Poor guy had no idea I was on the edge until he was showing me the amazing meatballs he bought at Costco that are the best he’s ever tasted.  Yeah.  You guessed it.  I cried.  LOL. Before Costco’s devil meatballs came into the picture, hubby always said mine were the best.  Stupid Costco.

Yes, I realized how ridiculous it was to be crying over frozen meatballs.  I just couldn’t stop it.  I knew I wasn’t really upset over meatballs, but the stress of the last several months was finally coming out…all at once…and since I was at home and didn’t have to worry about the rumor mill, I just let it spill.  I did manage to get out “It’s not….about….the meatballs….” in between sobs.  Poor hubby.  LOL.  Thank God we’ve been married long enough that he knows when to just be quiet and hug me.

When the waterworks finally stopped, I got myself a glass of water (it’s important to rehydrate after having a meltdown) and sat on the couch with Dyson the muppet puppy to start mentally sorting through how all these emotions snuck up on me.

My conclusion: that bitch Little Debbie.

Sometimes I forget that I’m a different person now.  I used to deal with stress by stopping at the grocery store and buying enough Nutty Bars to stop a train, then tossing in some ice cream along with them.  Oh, and don’t forget the big bag o’ chips…a girl needs something salty to compliment all that sweet.  (That’s what I used to call a balanced diet.)

I don’t do that anymore.  And I haven’t been working out consistently.  Usually a workout does wonders to diffuse stress, but I haven’t been doing it.  I also haven’t been sleeping, even on Ambien.  I’m tired all the time when I’m awake. The scale isn’t moving. I have more migraines than usual.  And I’m pretty sure that the amount of hair I’m pulling out in the shower is not normal.  Thank God I have thick hair.  Without the false comfort of compulsive overeating to calm my frazzled nerves, this is what happens.


I am going to head to the doctor just as a precaution, but I believe this is all the culprit of the Stress Monster and the fact that I didn’t really have a plan to deal with it.  I’ve been so focused on hitting my goals…it seems I dropped the ball.  Oops.

If I have a main point here, it’s to caution all those who are following behind me not to neglect this important part of making a permanent change in your lives.  Don’t forget to come up with a good solid NEW plan for dealing with stress…because if you’re not going to be eating over it anymore, you have to do something else.  So what’s it going to be?

For now, I think I’ll try to be better at wearing out my body with the treadmill…and occupying my mind with a little needlework every night before bed.  If something else appeals to me later, I’ll do that too.


So…what negative ways were/are you dealing with stress?  What’s your replacement plan look like?  Let’s share…all our heads together are better than just one of us alone.

Talk to me. 🙂

How to Handle Stress Like A Dog Blue T-Shirt

Stress Management for Dummies

Rosemary Gladstar’s Herbal Recipes for Vibrant Health: 175 Teas, Tonics, Oils, Salves, Tinctures, and Other Natural Remedies for the Entire Family



My Way or the Highway!

The more weight I lose, the more people stop me and want to know how I’m doing it. I always smile and answer their questions with my usual pumped up cheerleader-on-espresso enthusiasm. I enjoy talking about this process (obviously, hello!). I like showing people it’s possible to lose weight and get healthy without special diets, surgery, or crazy pain filled workouts. Without trying to sound like a tree hugg’in hippy, I do believe that the one thing that has consistently kept me on track this time is the fact that I’ve insisted on keeping my process as organic as possible. What I mean is…I go with my gut instinct and I don’t settle for any of the old bullshit I used to feed myself.

Every time I’ve tried to lose weight in the past, I’ve tried to go from couch-laying-Twinkie-guzzling-fat-girl to fitness-crazed-water-drink’in-broccoli-lover in one day. Every time, I’ve failed.  All or nothing doesn’t do it for me.

I have stopped trying to measure up to what everyone else says I should be doing…and I’ve stopped trying to hold myself up to everyone else’s expectations.  When it comes to the fitness industry…or those “get rid of belly fat in 5 days” articles…and even the well meaning advice of friends and family, I tread very cautiously.  After so many years of dieting and failing, I know what works for me and what doesn’t.  If I hear an interesting tip or new bit of information, I may try it and adjust my plan as I go forward if it works.  Bottom line, though…I do what works for me.

Imagine my amusement, then, when I had this conversation with a friend last week:

Friend:  “Hey, how’s your weight loss going?  You look great!”

Me:  “Thanks!  Everything’s going great…just humming along like normal.”

Friend:  “How much weight have you lost now?  It was 45 pounds last time I checked, right?”

Me:  “Right!  It’s still 45 pounds and going strong.”

(At this point, my friend gives me a sort of sympathetic frown like I’ve just told her my dog died.)

Friend:  “Oh, what’s wrong?  Have you been working out?”

Me:  “Nothing’s wrong, silly.  I’m doing great.  I’m not working out consistently, no.”

Friend:  “Oh, why not?  What’s wrong??”  Now she seems really worried.

Me:  “Nothing’s wrong.  I keep feeling like I have to force myself to workout…and I fail every time I try to shove myself forward too fast, so I’m trying to do what feels right instead of forcing myself to do it.”

My friend sits up straight with renewed energy and perches herself on the edge of her seat.  Uh oh…I know what’s coming.

Friend:  “No, no…you have to make yourself do it.  You just have to do it.  You’re not going to succeed if you don’t just jump in there and make yourself do it.  I know it sucks, but you just have to do it.  You can’t lose all that weight with just a diet.”

She actually started smacking her hands together as she was talking.  She was very emphatic.  And clappy.

I’ve had conversations like this so many times I’ve lost count.  How many of you can relate to this?  As soon as you start making healthy changes, everyone you know becomes a personal trainer.  I used to try and argue my point, but since frustrating the piss outta myself doesn’t burn any extra calories I’ve taken to following the advice of my imaginary husband Robert Downey Jr:


That’s exactly what I did with my friend in this situation as well.  Hers is exactly the “all or nothing” mentality that’s tripped me up a million times before.  She thinks it works for everyone, but she’s wrong.  It’s what works for her.  She’s a sweet lady, but she’s never had to walk around in a morbidly obese body.  She’s never stared down the business end of a 200+ pound weight loss goal before.  She has no idea of success…or failure…in this instance.

I want to just go back over what she said for a minute.  I have to make myself do it.  I’m not going to succeed unless I do that.   I have to jump in there and make myself.

I can’t lose it all with just a diet.

That is a lot of eff’in negativity, yo.

Change is hard.  Permanent change is harder.  We all know the statistics on how many overweight people really keep the weight off, right?  Why on earth would I want to make it worse by bogging myself down with drudgery?  I’m sure some folks don’t care about such semantics, but I’ve noticed that they make a hell of a difference to me.  And I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve had to remind people...I’m not on an effing diet!!!

I have changed.  This is how I eat.  Forever.

I don’t care for the all or nothing message either:  the idea that I’m not going to succeed if I don’t do this right now.  I beg to differ.  I already have succeeded.  I have 45 pounds worth of success under my belt, with more to come.

Look at the difference in our thought processes.  She perceives success as my goal weight.  Wanna know how I perceive success?  Here ya go:

6 months, 15 days of no sugar/junk/fast food

6 months, 5 days of no diet soda

My first pound lost

My first five pounds lost

My first ten pounds-  oh, you get the picture!

Dropping 10% of my excess weight, thereby significantly lowering my risk of heart attack and stroke

Hitting 349, dropping into the “below 350 category” and getting closer to 299…and farther away from 400

Wearing jeans for the first time in 2 years

Having a face-off with my first plateau…and winning  🙂

Losing 27 inches

Dropping 1 size

I just have a different way of looking at things than she does.  I’m not looking to make this a struggle.  I’m looking to make this a continued success.  I think I’ve done right by myself so far, wouldn’t you agree?

I think this is why I hate the over dramatic “FEEL THE BURN!!!” crap about most workout programs.  I hate the overenthusiastic, bouncy instructor in the fitness class who has to yell “Oh YEAH!!!!  Doesn’t that feel good?  YEAH!!!!”

No.  No, it effing doesn’t.  Call me crazy, but I don’t enjoy pain.  I don’t like my ankles screaming from the stress of holding up a 336 pound body.  I don’t like my back muscles ripping because my abs, which are in here somewhere, are useless.  Just day to day moving around is hard enough in this giant body – so forgive me if I’m not too keen on gett’in jiggy with a “shred-your-ass-with-total-insanity” workout video. Not for me, thanks.

I blame the Biggest Loser for this mentality, by the way.  While I can appreciate the motivational aspect of the show, I really don’t care for the fact that it’s raised the bar impossibly high for the 99% of us fatties who aren’t picked to star in a reality show.  It seems that if our workouts don’t include flipping tractor tires end over end down the street or towing semi-trucks with the sheer power of our multiple asses, we’re not really pushing ourselves.  I’m grateful for the treadmill that allows me to walk in privacy…because the last time I tried to get some cardio outside, a passing ass-hat in a Corolla yelled “Go on a diet!”

That kind of idiocy will always astound me.  I was on mile #3 and he’s speeding by with a cigarette in his mouth.  I wonder who was in better shape.  I bet it was ME.

As for my treadmill, I use it when I want to.  I don’t make myself get on it.  I’ve tried multiple times and I backslide every time.  Because I know myself, I know this will not always be the case.  I will get to a point where I want to workout consistently…but that time is not right now.


Let me just clear up one more thing for those of you who may be struggling with something similar:  there is a difference between being afraid to try and not wanting to do.  There is no lack of courage behind my not wanting to workout.  There is no fear of failure.  There is “I’ve got all I can handle right now…I don’t want anymore”.  On the other side of that coin, though, there is also “Wow, I only have 3 more pounds to the next set of tens…I’m gonna get on the treadmill right now.”

When I try to force myself into a workout routine, I hate it.  When I try to mentally power through it and just get it over with, I don’t enjoy it at all.  I can’t build a healthy habit like that.  When I get on the treadmill because I want to, I sink into the music and just go go go…most of the time with the goofiest smile on my face.  There is a world of difference.

I look forward to the time when I can get on a bike and ride it without being afraid I’ll need a proctologist to remove the seat when I’m done.  I’m excited for the day when I can strap on a pair of rollerblades and go flying down a bike path.  Those types of exercise are FUN to me…and I know they’re waiting for me when I’m ready.

The moral of this story:  don’t hold yourself to anyone’s standards but your own.  Find whatever experts you need or want, talk to your doctor, sit down with yourself and come up with a plan of attack.  Decide what you’re going to do and don’t listen to anyone else who comes along and tells you that you’re not going to succeed unless you do it their way.  Try what you want, evaluate, adjust, try again…keep going.

When it comes to your standards, the only person who should be saying “My way or the highway” is you…to yourself.

Flying Fat


I’m so sorry that I was quiet for so long…I went on vacation last week and completely lost my writing rhythm for some reason, something that doesn’t usually affect me but smacked me right in the 3.5 asses this time.  I’m back!

Hot Mess Hubby and I flew off to visit my family last week.  I work in the travel industry, so I actually have the opportunity to fly a lot.  With planes getting more and more cramped as airlines try to increase capacity, my flight experiences have remained surprisingly positive.  This is mostly due to the fact that I have the ability to see which flights are going to be jam packed and which flights have plenty of room – so I usually just plan my travel schedule around the roomy flights and then ask the gate agent to put me next to an empty seat so I’m not encroaching on someone else’s space.  If I’m traveling with the hubby, though, I don’t worry about it…he’s used to me encroaching on him.  That’s usually where my problems end when it comes to airplane travel – or that’s what I thought until we boarded our plane.

We were thrilled to be on a brand new plane.  It was clean and pretty and had this really awesome ambient lighting on it.  Here’s the light as seen over Hot Mess Hubby’s head:

I was so happy to have the hubby with me (he hadn’t seen my family in a year) and so excited to be flying on a new plane that I let my guard down for two seconds and completely forgot that all airplane seats are not created equal.  It wasn’t until I scooted into our row (an exit row) and was clicking my seat belt extender in place that I realized…the armrests were permanently fixed.  They didn’t flip up.  Shit.

I turned around and slowly lowered myself into my seat, trying to remain positive as my 3.5 asses made contact with the armrests on both sides.  As I forced myself down into the seat and felt my hips get pinched into oblivion, I tried not to say horrible things to myself and get negative.  I really had to fight not to start my vacation off on a seriously bad note.  Bless his sweet little heart, the hubby tried to help as best he could.

He had to help me fasten the seat belt because I couldn’t move anything from the waist down and the knees up – and I couldn’t see anything because the seat had shoved all my fat UP to the point where my boobs were holding my chin up.  I was mortified…and in pain…and had to fight unexpected tears at this sudden, very unpleasant reminder of how very far I have to go in order to get to my goal weight.  Suddenly, 34 pounds and 19.5 inches lost made me feel like a big fat slacker.  And then the hubby, speaking in the soft & steady voice he uses to calm me down when I get all teary, starts pointing out the guy in 8A who’s shoulders are so broad he’s touching the lady next to him.  He points out the lady in 10D who’s hanging over into the aisle probably to put some space between her and a guy who looks like his breath is pretty stanky.  Hubby squeezes my hand and tells me how great I’m doing…and before I know it, it’s time to turn off all electronic devices and get ready for take off.

I wedged myself against the window and listened to music on my Kindle Fire.  I had long silver earrings on as well, so imagine my surprise when hubby leans over to put the ear bud out of the my ear and tugs on the earring.  Yowch!  Can see the ear bud cord and the earring?  I can tell the difference.  Not sure what his problem was!

We had a wonderful trip and visited with tons of friends and family.  It was harder for me than I thought it would be in that so many activities were planned around lunch and dinner – and our schedule was pretty full.  There were a few times that we were rushing off to have lunch somewhere when I was still satisfied from breakfast.  I don’t like stepping outside my normal eating routine and schedule, even after 4 months.  I’ve been successful thus far for a reason and I’m almost superstitious about changing anything.

We stayed with my Mom, which meant sleeping in twin beds because that what she has in her spare rooms.  Fun!  Poor hubby’s bed was so uncomfortable that he was pulling the mattress down onto the floor every night for better back support.  My room wasn’t much better.  Every morning, I rolled out of my twin bed and looked up to see my giant reflection in a mirrored closet door.  Hair all wild, eyes all squinty, and flab and fat in all its glory.  Not a fun thing to look at in the morning.  It was a good time, though, and nice to see everyone.

Before we knew it, we were back at the airport and getting ready to come back home.  We boarded the plane and were lucky enough to get row 7, which is the bulkhead right behind first class.  Lots of legroom!  So there I am, standing in front of my seat and attaching my seat belt extender and…shit.  Shit, shit, shit.  The armrests in row 7 don’t move.  Hubby’s eyes got all big and he asked me if they could bump us to the next flight.  They could, yes, but I really just wanted to get home.  I decided that I could suffer through the Playdoh Ass Factory one last time.

We took our seats.  Hubby helped with my seat belt.  I couldn’t sit back because there was too much ass between me and the back of the seat, so I asked hubby to fold up my jacket and give me some extra lumbar support back there.  All of a sudden, I feel him put his hand back there and he starts shoving my ass down into the seat…as if he was tucking a shirt into his pants.  Push, smoosh, cram, pack.  He caught the horrified look on my face and then I just started laughing.  He kissed me on the cheek and laughed with me.  There were a few tears of humiliation in there, but I was just so grateful to be going home and back to my normal schedule.

Two and a half hours later, we were landing in the sweet, soft spring air of Texas.  About 50% of my body was numb and I had a large bruise on my left leg from the arm rest digging into my skin.  But I was home.  Home, sweet, Texas home.

We’re in the middle of 7 Days of Sanity on my Facebook fan page if you want to head over there and join us.  I have a feeling I’ll be working on making exercise a consistent habit for a long time.  Let’s keep going with this!

Also, I just have to share this with y’all.  I found this in SkyMall magazine on the plane and I really REALLY want to try and get one of these.

It’s really not in my budget at all, but wow…this looks like fun.  And those Al-Qaida bugs won’t stand a chance…I’ll be going too fast!  And there’s no seat, so there’s no need to tuck my asses into anything – or worry about those tiny bike seats that would have to be removed by a proctologist if I ever sat on one.

I would love to try one of these babies.  What a great idea!!!

Click here to visit their website!


One more thing:  April was about losing inches, apparently.  My goal for May is 339 lbs by the end of the month.  It’s time for me to forge ahead and get moving  What’s your goal for May?

No time to waste…let’s do this!!