Cut the crap.

Emotional/stressful bullshit is going on in Thuseyland. I'm not going into most of the details because it's lame. The other shit has to do with a return trip to goddamn bone doctor happening on Friday to see what the fuck is going to happen to the rat bastard Frankenankle. I think it's pretty clear that I'm not happy at the moment.

Now that it has been established that I've been in emotional/high stress bullshit zone this week, let's get down to fat camp business:

It shall be known from here on in that I'm an emotional non-eater. This entire week, I couldn't have cared less about food or eating, despite my emotional upheaval that could have prompted the year's takings for the Curry Garden in one night flat.

That being said, I want it noted that despite this lack of appetite or interest, I still made myself eat three meals a day plus snacks whenever possible. I didn't avoid my food and eating responsibilities, even though my poor stomach wished i would.

All this shitty week, one for the record books, I did not cry and I did not starve.

And I lost 2.4lbs, putting me at 269.2. yes. the 260's.

It took over 6 months to get out of the 270's. I may make another appearance there due to my close proximity to them right now, but for now, I am out of them and going in the right direction.

Suck on that, 270's.

xo
lb

This is why I have a day job.

It's "Family Day" here in Ontario (I know, isn't that the lamest fucking name for a stat holiday?) so I have the day off. So far, I've sat through 2 talk shows, I walked away from "the View" (because I'm smart) and I've nearly finished the sweater I've let sit for too long.

Just now, the phone rang. Understand this: the phone rarely rings here, because I'm a hermit. Of course I'm going to answer it, because it could have been a family member (it is FAMILY day, after all) or my favourite person, or friends looking to avoid talking to their families, so they'd like to talk to me.

Or, despite being registered in the government's "Do Not Call Registry", where I am registered through 2013 (I checked), it will be a telemarketer.

I hate telemarketers. That is why they are, by law, not allowed to call me. That's what that registry is all about.

Today, a telemarketer called me. Here's how that shit went down:

LB (me): Hello? [echo...pause...] HELLO? (annoyed!)

Telemarketer (TM): hello ma'am, I am calling from Annoying Window Replacement Company Who Shouldn't Be Calling You Because it's Against the Law. How are you today?

LB: How did you get this number?

TM: We have done work on [Bleep] Street in the past, that is how we got your number.

LB: That doesn't make sense.

TM: Yes it does. [Sorry, what? did you just fucking say that to me?!?]

LB: No, replacing windows on another house on my street doesn't result in you getting my phone number.

TM: I'm calling today to tell you about...

LB: No, you're taking me off your list. That's what you're doing.

*CLICK*

Alright window company, consider yourselves reported. You stand the chance of being fined for dialling the 10 digits it takes to make my phone ring. You asshats.

I want to put the following in the phone book beside my listing: this person does not need her ducts cleaned, windows replaced, tickets to the circus, carpets cleaned, a better internet connection, a better cable package, or tickets to a sporting event she doesn't give a shit about. She doesn't believe for a second that she's won a cruise, a car, or a barbecue. She will not call in regard to a credit card account she does not have. She will report you. Find a better job.

Oddly enough, this is the most family-related thing I will do all day because I know, somewhere, my step-dad is laughing his head off in agreement.

xo
LB

Run for cover.

Consider my motherfucking shit about to be lost.

A big ZERO in the progress department today.

I am so beyond frustrated, I don't even know what word to use. And I know a lot of fucking words.

I need something to smash. I need to scream at the top of my lungs.

Yeah yeah yeah, the silver lining crap can come later. Right now, I'm too frustrated with myself to think of that horseshit.

Eventually this ugly little tantrum will be done, but for now, everything sucks and I hate it.

xo
lb

keep swimming.

Another 0.8 gone this week, which actually felt like a fucking miracle. All day friday I walked around feeling like I was made of lead. The feeling hadn't really changed yesterday morning leading up to the scale so I was sure the game of lose/gain/lose/gain was going to continue for another week.

But lo and behold, the scale went down a little bit putting me closer to being outta the 270's. I have so much water on me right now, I really am a fucking marvel of science. I say that every month but fucksakes, I'm just waiting to hear slooshing as I walk.

I don't have too much to say today (GASP.), I'm totally in the knitting zone. I'm busting down the stash and cranking out socks for feet in need.

Still attempting the skating thing, it's getting to be less of a shit show but oh man it ain't pretty. Love the skates, gravity and balance don't love me so much.

back to the needles, and a big ol' cup of coffee. The bright winter sun is shining through the front window and I'm gonna make like a cat and just spread out and bask for the rest of the day.

peace oot
LB

B A F

When my sisters and I were kids, we played a game called TV Times. Actually, this game was played before our parents got together and before we all were thrown into the same house. At this point, Jenn and I still lived across the street from Norah and Helen.

The street we lived on, just a few blocks away from where I'm typing this, is in an older part of London that has gorgeous, big, old trees. Norah's house was lucky enough to have one on both sides of the driveway, and those trees made TV Times the best game going.

How it was played is simple: one kid stands by one tree, another kid stands by the other. One of the kids thinks of a television show and gives the clue using only the first letter of each word (H D for Happy Days, A I T F for All in the Family, etc) and when the opposing kid guessed it, both kids would launch into a run. You had to run across, touch the other tree and then hoof it back to your own tree and yell "BEAT!" before the other kid. Simple game but it garnered hours of laughter and "ummmmmmm"s. Of course, when I was very little, my answer for everything was Laverne and Shirley. Since I didn't know my alphabet yet, I would give clues like "R B A" and opposing sister would roll their eyes and say "laverne and shirley" and the race would be on.

how could they not humour this little cutie?


Hahahha man I loved that dress.

Anyhow, I'm taking you down this memory lane because lately, I feel like I'm in a never ending game of back and forth Weight Loss Tag. Up 2.4 last week, down 2.8 this week (YES.) Up 0.2 one week, down 0.1 the next. I feel like I'm stuck between two big trees, running back and forth and not getting anywhere.

It's really fucking frustrating, but what is kind of surprising is that there's no way I want to give up. My pal Diane pointed out a very important fact the other day: look at the difference from a year ago. I wasn't doing anything in terms of exercise and I was still in the early shaky days of weight loss. Now, I'm all about WW, the Y and attempting to put roller skates on my feet and not die. I walk to and from work, rarely ever taking any other mode of travel. i am focused and determined, and much more confident. So, thanks for pointing that out, tootie. Sometimes we need the good reminders.

But I swear to god, if i don't get out of the 270's soon, I'm gonna lose my motherfucking shit. :)

xo
lb

I shaved my legs for this blog.

I must love you guys. Why? Because of one lousy photo I would be posting, I got off my lazy Canadian ass and shaved my legs. I could have easily let it go, and chances are you wouldn't have even noticed. But no, I whipped out the razor out of respect, friends.

In the past couple of blogs, I have alluded to some sort of pants-shittingly exciting/terrifying thing I'm going to be doing. It involves these:


Meet my new roller skates. They are bitchin'. They will assist me in my quest to become a ref for our local roller derby league. I've wanted to do this for the past couple of years but the fear has held me back. Well, no more. I finally bit the bullet and took steps to make it happen. Can you believe that shit? I sure can't.

The timing of all this is pretty funny, since today's topic in the meeting was activity and what prevents us from participating in exercise etc. I am finally taking some firm steps toward achieving some goals. I'm gonna be a ref. On wheels. Holy shit, you have no idea how excited I am.

That being said, I'm in a fucking terrible mood at the moment. I'm so goddamn frustrated with a number of things, one of them is weight loss, or the lack thereof. I was up 2lbs at camp this morning. What a fucking piss off. I know of a couple of factors that contributed to it, but I'm still mighty cheesed off. Sometimes (like right now) I feel like this weight will be on me forever. I know it's not true, but it sure as shit feels like it.

bitch bitch bitch. whine whine whine. You know how it goes.

So, once again, I'm hitting the reset button and moving forward. That's all I can do right now. Start over and keep going. I'm hoping my frustration serves as fuel.

And I'm hoping my fucking shift key starts working again, this entry took twice as long to write because I kept having upper case appearing as lower case issues. SIGH. My life is so difficult. ahahah.

xo
lb

Consider it Spanked.

Down down down this week, a whole 2.4. Feels pretty damn good, especially because today is my 1 year mark, and I had hoped to see a good result.

A year ago, I made the best decision of my life and went to a meeting. I was miserable. I was sore. I was scared. But the minute I walked in there, I knew it was the right thing to do. I'm proud of the fact that I've come this far, and it's an excellent start to a better life.

Now, let me tell you what's up my ass about today's (and last week's) meetings: the chatty fatties behind me. It's awesome that they're there, making changes for themselves, all that. However, if I have to sit through another fucking meeting hearing them blather on and on about their new sweater dresses, how tights go with everything (EVERYTHING!), and how shitty it is that their new orthotics don't fit in their fucking Ugg boots properly, I'm going to fucking beat them to death with their huge, ugly, obnoxious purses.

And I will count it as motherfucking activity points.

If you're not there to listen and participate in the group discussion, don't stay for the fucking meeting. I sure as hell ain't gaining any insight or support listening to you ramble on about your completely unflattering but totally hip wardrobe.

Yes, this issue is well and truly up my ass, and if it continues, my big size 11 doc martens will be up theirs.

Whoo! that felt good. Almost broke a sweat typing it, that's how annoyed I am! ahahah

Exciting things happen this week, there will be a photo or two! YIPEEEE! Stay tuned...

peace out!
LB