Don’t Let the Assholes Get You Down, Peeps!

I’m up to 21 minutes on the elliptical trainer now, which will seem barely average to some folks, but it’s effing stellar for a 300+ pound Hot Mess Princess wearing sweatpants that have been sewn back together so many times I call them my “Frankenpants”. Soon I’ll be at 22 minutes…and then 23 minutes…and then 24. This, my friends, is how a badass is built.

When I was done with my cardio today, I walked out of my gym with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Another day closer to my goal. I’m a bit healthier today than I was yesterday. Tomorrow, I’ll be even healthier. Ready or not, world, here I come.

As I stepped off the curb, a beat up Honda went speeding by and the guy behind the wheel glared at me and yelled “Lose some weight, stupid fat ass!”


Do I feel stupid. This guy really showed me, didn’t he? I mean…here I’ve been wondering why I have to buy such huge pants and all I needed was for some douchy teenager in his Mom’s beat up old Honda to swing by and tell me to lose weight. I had no idea until he said it. Mind. Blown.

Shit. I feel like a class-A dumbass. Thank God he crossed my path and got through to me.

Most people have to pay a doctor, nutritionist, or personal trainer for such learned advice – but I got it for free. I am the luckiest stupid fat ass in the world. He sped off so fast that I didn’t have a minute to thank him for reaching out. The least I could have done was buy him a new carton of cigarettes. I’m not sure which brand it was that he was smoking, but it sure made him look all grown-up ‘n shit when he was speeding through the parking lot.

Don't let the haters get you down, peeps

The world is full of haters, peeps, but don’t let it get you down. As much as I’m still shocked by this kind of behavior, I’m not going to let it bother me. I did say a silent prayer that he’s either rendered completely sterile or at least fails to produce offspring until he evolves into a decent human being – but I don’t think that was out of line.

There aren’t many people clueless enough to yell “Lose some weight” to a person who is exiting a gym. What the hell did he think I was doing in there…looking for food?

I sure hope he forgives me for stepping off that curb while he was driving 50 miles an hour in the parking lot. While I’m asking for forgiveness, maybe I should apologize for yelling back “Suck it, pinky dick!”

Or not. I’m good either way.

Sacrificing myself on the altar of dignity


This isn’t going to be my regular wordy shut-the-hell-up already, Dianne, kind of post. I’m just going to take up a few minutes of your time today…because I want to show you something.

Exercise isn’t fun when you’re obese. It’s difficult and painful…and you’re sweating in places we shouldn’t even have. I don’t know about you, but I’m incredibly ungraceful. I’m clunky and slow. Truth be told, the only thing I love about exercise right now is the moment that I get to stop – but I’m getting myself to the gym every day because I know it’s either this or surgery (and even with surgery, there must be exercise eventually).

It’s hard for us, I get that. We all get that. It’s hard to clunk around on machines and work up the stamina to get significant amounts of cardio in order to burn that fat. I can’t go near a regular stationary bike…the seats are too small. I get stress fractures even on the treadmill. I stick with the elliptical and the recumbent bike. Mostly the elliptical…but there are times when I feel like the elliptical has totally kicked my butt for the day, yet I’m still able to workout a little more. That’s when I switch to the recumbent bike. And that, my friends, is when the glamour of working out when you’re really obese starts. Even my boobs get exercise on that damn thing…and it’s embarrassing as hell…but I do it.

Click here to see for a lesson in what really matters…Hot Mess style.

See how much I love y’all? If I can suffer through the sweaty grossness and blobby indignity of working out…then you can too. We’re all in this together, right?

Hotness, here we come!


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I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…

…I really like my gym.

There. I said it.

I still hate exercising. It’s painful in all the ways I expect it to be and in a few that I don’t, which is why I’m grateful to be headed to the doctor’s office this week – but more on that later. This is about a gym. My gym. Two words I thought I would never say again.

I’ve posted a few times now that the air conditioning system is out at my gym. This is Texas…and it’s summer. It’s pretty hot. Plus, I’m a Californian. This is not my natural habitat. I’m from the land of soft ocean breezes and chilly marine air that rolls in during the night and cools everything off. Between June and September, I stay indoors at all costs in Texas or my wussy California butt gets all whiney – so I’m not usually too happy to be inside any building that doesn’t provide relief from the heat.


Because I’ve repeatedly posted about the A/C problem, many folks have commented that I should probably think about finding another gym…or that I should be upset that they’re not taking care of it. I will be upset if they don’t fix it eventually, I can assure you. But I’m not there yet.

I was tortured over my decision to join a gym. I didn’t want to do it, but after giving myself a stress fracture by merely walking on my treadmill at home, it was pretty clear that I needed to do one of two things:

1. Magically whip $2,000 out of my ass and buy an elliptical trainer that can handle 300+ pound me.

2. Join a gym and use an elliptical there.

I checked thoroughly…and I couldn’t find $2,000 anywhere up my ass. So I joined a gym. Keeping my last gym experience in mind, I certainly wanted to avoid the “meat market” big box gyms. I ended up deciding on Lady of America. Girls only.

I went a few times. It was weird at first. Mostly because I was bitter about not being born naturally waifish like Keira Knightley. But the people who work there are genuinely nice and unpretentious. Not once have I been greeted by a toothy goober in a sports bra. Not once have I had to mop some guy’s forehead sweat off the elliptical display before I can touch it.

At first, I’d carefully glance up every time the front door opened, praying to God that whoever it was didn’t look over at me…pumping away like a grinder monkey on the elliptical. It didn’t take me too long to realize that the women who walk through that door are just regular chicks looking to work out. They’re moms and doctors and secretaries and business owners…they’ve got shit to do. They’re all wonderful in their own individual ways – and none of them give a crap about what I look like as I lunk along in a sweaty, ungraceful hot mess.

Nowadays, it feels like more like a Super Hero lair…and we’re all from the same planet as Wonder Woman. We’re all a bunch of bad ass girls getting strong and healthy. Now when the front door opens I look up and smile…and I mentally send a variety of good vibes their way.

You go, lady in the black capris…wish I could run that fast!

Little ninja girl in the white yoga pants, you are too cute and I’m trying not to be jealous. Work those guns, girl!

And finally…Super Chick in the Texas Rangers jersey. I want to be you on that elliptical some day!

I’d seen her a few times. Running on the elliptical trainer in a red Texas Rangers jersey with a number 10 on the back. Number 10. Michael Young.

MLB: AUG 04 Rangers at Athletics

One of my absolutely favorite Rangers baseball players (although now he plays for the Phillies and I miss him dearly). Michael Young is a class act. As soon as I saw that number 10 on her shirt, I knew she was ok.

The first day I walked into the gym and the a/c was off, she was there too. There were box fans all over the place and it was pretty swampy. I climbed up on a machine near her and started lunking away. I had my headphones in and wasn’t paying attention. After a few minutes, Super Chick in the Texas Rangers jersey jumped down from her machine and got ready to leave. And then she did something that I’ve never seen anyone do in any other gym I’ve ever belonged to: she stepped in between the machines, grabbed the box fan that she had been using, and aimed it at me.

What a considerate, awesome, total super hero ninja chick thing to do. I couldn’t get the smile off my face for the rest of my time on the elliptical.. How thoughtful, especially in that heat. Instead of running to the relief of her car’s a/c, she leaned over and turned a fan on me so that I would be more comfortable. Mind. Blown.

Isn’t it funny how the smallest good deed can make you feel like a million dollars? This would never have happened at previous gyms I’ve belonged to. Not in a million years. I couldn’t get the smile off my face for the rest of my workout.

And as far as the a/c issue goes here’s what I know: the business owner and the landlord’s insurance companies are blaming each other and there’s a $20,000 repair in the middle of it. A letter from the owner of the gym is posted in the lobby, advising gym members of the situation and suggesting that we workout at other clubs in the area until the problem is fixed (sometime this week possibly). At the end of the letter, it’s made clear that if we choose to workout in this gym we do so at our own risk.

Well…it’s not that hot in there…and it makes me sweat more. To me, this is kind of a bonus. My body feels like it’s breaking down. Every day, I feel like I’m on the verge of another injury. Everything hurts, pretty much all the time. I have no idea what’s wrong, but right now I’m sweating more without having to put my body through more. I’ll take it.

Having no a/c does suck, but they appear to be working on it and I appear to still be fat and in much need of cardio – so I’m going to sweat a little extra. Big deal. I just feel like I don’t need to be so upset about it. Believe me, if I found it to be completely unlivable, I wouldn’t be going. So yes, if it goes on too long, I will get upset about it. But right now I’m fine to have patience and wait and see.

I’m so glad I persevered through the awkward stage in the beginning and got comfortable here. When it comes to working out, it’s incredible to have a place where I feel like I belong.

This is my gym. These are my peeps.

Now it’s your turn. Have you found your happy place yet when it comes to working out? Share here!


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I live in a penis

Just about every week, I meet up with my “bloggy/writey bitches”. It’s a small group of friends who share a love of writing. Some of us write blogs, some write fiction, some are just getting started. One thing has become crystal clear: meeting regularly helps us recharge our creative batteries. We tell each other our writey woes and share our ideas, we give each other encouragement, and we reinforce each other. We also talk about shit that has absolutely nothing to do with writing…and tonight’s blog post is about a conversation I had with one of my writey bitches last weekend.

I don’t remember if it was before or after the very strange man walked sideways in front of us, grinning from ear to ear so creepy that I was sure one of us was showing a nipple or something. The guy was freaky. And who walks sideways when there’s a ton of room to walk normal? Don’t get me started on that crap. Anyway, we were sitting there at Starbucks with our coffee and the worst tasting pretzel ever made in the entire universe, when my buddy tells me that the Dallas/Fort Worth area is a giant penis.

HMP: What???

A: Yeah! Just look at the weather map. DFW is a giant penis.  We live in a penis.

HMP: No way!!!

And that’s when she whipped out her tablet and outlined it with her finger.

HMP: Oh my God…we live in a dick!

A: I know!!! Ever since Bill told me about it, I always see it.

HMP: It can’t be unseen. It’s a dick. Holy crap…

A: I know!

HMP: And it’s pointing west. Why is it pointing west?

A: I have no idea.

And then we just sat there and stared at the DFW penis.

DFW Penis photo Map_zpswgxsarwv.jpg

I live in a penis…and Dallas is the balls. Figures.

*** And several weeks later, we DROVE the DFW Penis, peeps. That’s right! ROAD TRIP!!!!! Click here to go straight to the blog post that tells you what happened…with pictures AND video. You’re welcome.

Super Fun Penis Candy

Is it hot in here or is it just me?


It was 107 degrees here in Arlington, Texas today. What…the…hell? I know, I know, I know…it’s Texas. We live a mostly air conditioned life here. We go from our air conditioned homes to our air conditioned cars to the air conditioned store. My neighbors might think I’m trying to log in a little extra cardio by running from my car to my front door, but really I’m just trying to keep my damn shoes from melting to the driveway.

Why am I talking about this now? Because it’s hotter than Satan’s nut sack outside and two out of three A/C units at my gym have died. Now the owner’s business insurance is fighting with the landlord’s property insurance…and no one seems to care that it’s 90 degrees in the damn gym. And you know what I realized?

Neither do I!

Okay, sure, if it was the Dooney & Bourke store I’d be freak’in out. I get hot & bothered enough with all those gorgeous handbags around – I don’t need help. But at the gym? Aren’t I supposed to sweat in there? If you think about it, this is really kind of an extra service they’re giving me that I don’t have to pay for.


And speaking of gyms…something phenomenal happened to me today. Something awesome. Something effing AMAZEBALLS!!!

Y’all know how much I detest gyms, thanks to my last gym experience. It was a hard sell to get me to join another one – but this ladies only gym is working out well. When I’m in there, I’m surrounded by regular looking ladies who are only there to get a workout. They don’t want to impress anyone. They’re just regular chicks.

Since the A/C is out, they have box fans all over the cardio floor. Some people aim them right at themselves (there are usually only about 4 women in the gym when I’m there). There wasn’t one near me as I was pumping away on the elliptical, so I just plugged my headphones in and started lurching away.

Two machines over, a lady was finishing up her workout. She got down, stepped out in front of our row of machines, and turn her box fan towards me so that I would get the lovely breeze. And then she smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up…as if she was saying “You go, girl!” And she left.

What an awesome chick. I smiled and thanked her, of course realizing that this never would have happened in another gym. What a great day!

Sure, it was hotter than hell in there…but that just made me sweat more. And I didn’t do 15 or 16 minutes…I did 20 this time. RAWR!!!!

Lastly, I was interviewed for an article on MSN Healthy Living and it came out today. If you’d like to read it, you can click here – but I warn you that I hate this picture of me with the fire of a thousand suns. I look like the little sister of Hagrid from Harry Potter. If he had a sister. Which I don’t think he did.

I was disappointed that they didn’t let me plug my blog in there anywhere, but I appreciate the opportunity to speak on the bullying that goes on towards the obese. Some of the stories of the other folks in this article are downright inspiring. You should definitely check it out.

Good night, ladies and gentlemen! I wish you good fortune…and I wish your fat cells a quick doom. ♥


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