Wednesday, June 4, 2008

The Good, The Bad and The Cottage Cheese

***Update*** For all the people who asked - No this is not my scale! Not my numbers. Not my groovy blue tile. Just a picture I found on the Google. Dudes, do you seriously think I would be posting my real numbers when I just told y'all the reasons I had to be finicky with who's gonna weigh me? Uberman does occasionally read this. But only because I beg him to and give him quizzes about it. But no, that is not how much I weigh. And no, I am not announcing that either. And I would NEVER buy this scale. It tells you your BMI and body fat percentage. And I don't think you can program it to lie. There are some things a girl doesn't need to know!! It's true what they say about the truth. It hurts like a bitch.



So this week's been pretty good so far. I am down two pounds.
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The good news is I can see the effects of losing the two pounds. The bad news is, I lost the two pounds in a place where I really don't need to lose the weight. Where? You guessed it - the boobies. Yep, one pound from each is what it looks like. And The Girls look pretty unhappy about it. They aren't looking anyone in the eye anymore. Why are they taking this so hard? It's for the greater good. They are taking one for the team, right? Yet they are so depressed.
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Uberman gave me a gift card to buy some secrets from that slut we all know and love - Victoria. I know, Uberman is a sweetie. But lets be real here, we all know those gift cards are not really intended as gifts for us, right? We're onto you Uberman and all the other Ubermen out there! So anyhoo, I am going to have to go buy The Girls something pretty. That always seems to perk them up. And if that doesn't work I may seriously consider giving them a lobotomy. And when I say lobotomy, I mean implants and a lift. Just so there's no confusion.
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I am back to counting points everyday, and journaling what I eat. Which is a complete pain in the cottage cheese dimples, but it really does help. And I am not going to the WW meetings. I just don't have time. Okay that's totally a lie. I just don't want to make the time. How about that? I simply can't take it anymore. Have you ever been to a WW meeting? It's unsafe! It's a room full of hungry people in ketosis. Very similar to the zombies in Dawn of the Dead. And they are being asked to confront their biggest fear - The Evil Scale! DUN DUN DUUUHHHN!!! (Cue running, screaming mob of fluffy people - AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!)
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Sometimes the meetings are informative, but most of the time they are telling you the same stuff you already know from the pamphlets they hand you when you check in. I do like listening to other people share, however. I imagine it's similar to an AA meeting. "Hi, I'm April (Hi April) and I've been off the Krispy Kreme's for 8 days, 11 hours and 22.8 minutes." (Golf claps from the crowd of hungry zombies.) Or you always get that one lady in your group who brings in the labels of all the low point treats she finds. "Did she just say those Blue Bunny ice cream bars are zero points?? What?? That is madness!!"
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The problem with not going to the meetings is, I am the type of person that needs to be accountable to someone. I need the disapproving look of disgust when I get on the scale and have gained a little. Therefore, I am still having someone weigh me every week. And what better person than my Mother in Law! She is the Queen of the disapproving look of disgust! I kid, I kid. Or do I?
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Why did I pick my MIL for this special task, you ask yourself? Well, I certainly can't have Uberman do it, now can I? I would rather stick needles in my eye than have him know how much I weigh. Seriously, when I was 9 months pregnant with my second child, the OB nurse said my weight out loud in front of him. Oh yes she did. I yelled "What do you think you are doing? You don't just announce a woman's weight in front of her husband when she is nine months swollen with his offspring and all this extra fluid! What the hell is the matter with you??" And then I reported her to the Doctor and insisted she be fired or at the very least reprimanded. And he just laughed, "Oh April, you are so funny. How are the pregnancy hormones treating you lately?" Whatever, traitor. Blaming this on hormones when it was your nurse's bad manners and violation of doctor patient confidentiality. Not to mention betrayal of her own kind. Oh I am getting mad all over again. Deep breath in, slowly exhale....
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So anyhoo . . . I can't have my own mother do it because she lives 100 miles away and that would just be too inconvenient for weekly weigh ins. I can't ask my sister in law because she knows too many of my friends and it is a pretty juicy number, I wouldn't blame her for wanting to tell someone. And I can't have a friend do it because, well I would be way too embarrassed for any of them to know. I mean come on, we are all judging each other and we know it. Although, I could ask my friend Brooke because she was kind enough to keep removing the M&M dish from me at Bunco Monday night (thanks Brooke!!). She was not judging, she was making me be accountable and I love her more for it. So Brooke, you are on stand by. You'll be my weigh in back up plan. Are you cool with that??
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I can't ask any of the kids because one needs too much help writing her numbers and the other two have big mouths. ("Dad, Mom said the S word when she hit a curb turning a corner too fast yesterday." "And she was doing 85 on the freeway!" Thanks guys! Don't come looking for me when you are teenagers and miss your curfew. I will be the first to rat you out!) So the obvious answer was the MIL. I see her almost every day so it's convenient. Plus, she wants me to be successful and she will encourage me or give me the kick in the ass I need when I gain. Plus plus, I am sure she doesn't want a lard ass for a daughter in law.
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She's gonna be great. Imagine a mix between Lou Gossett, Jr. in An Officer and A Gentleman and Carol Brady. But shorter. And with great legs and really cute shoes. And awesome jewelry. And free. (Yay Free!)
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If I feel like I'm going to backslide, I'll go back to the meetings. But until then, I think I am ready for outpatient treatment. We'll see how it goes. So onward and, hopefully as far as the numbers on the scale are concerned, downward. Ha!
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Disclaimer - This post was not intended in any way to insult any of the following: People attending WW or AA, people with droopy boobies, surgically enhanced boobies or cottage dimples, mothers in law, daughters in law, Ubermen, OB Nurses, Zombies, sluts, patrons of Victoria's Secret, lovers of Krispy Kreme, fans of Louis Gossett, Jr, friends named Brooke, and most importantly, FAT PEOPLE. I am one of you. It was all in jest and good humor. If we can't joke about our big asses, what do we have left people?? Huh?? So please, if I hurt your feelings STOP READING MY BLOG!! Thank you and have a lovely evening. Kisses.

9 comments:

Chris H said...

I wish I had a Mother In Law to weigh me, then I wouldn't have to keep going to the TOTALLY BORING Weight Watcher Meeting to hear the same crap week in week out! I have been going (on and off) for 5 bloody years now.... and I am so sick of it, but need to go for the accountabillity eh? Good on you for working on the lard! I doubt anyone will be offended by your post... I couldn't read anything offensive in it!

Jessie said...

Good for you, April. Stay on the wagon. Personally I'm going for the stress-eating-while-freaking-out-about-the -LSAT-diet. Fun!

Also, LOVE YOU! You crack me up. And why is that we have to lose weight in the Tata's? Isn't childbirth enough of a punishment for the fall of man? No! We have to have fewer boob cells.

Why does the fat in the boobs shrink faster than the fat in the ass? That's definitely on my list of questions to ask God once I get to Heaven.

Coffee Bean said...

Oh my gosh... you are hilarious! WW meetings are so painful!

Just so you know my husband is having a cow that I am on here... AGAIN... AND I told him he has to read this as soon as I am done... ugh. He'll be laughing in a minute.

Becky said...

Okay, childbirth isn't punishment for the fall of man...pain with childbirth was a result of that.

And Jess, I wonder what God would really say if you asked him about the "fat in the a$$"? LOL

I was wondering the whole time...is that your scale and is that a picture of your weight? Cuz I would like to weigh 168 right now. LOL

Lastly, I was once at a WW meeting where an old man kept asking questions and finally the leader said, "You just want me to give you permission to eat the whole damn roast and I'm not gonna do it."

ROFL!!!!

Tough love I tell ya!

Good luck with points counting and all of that...you know skinny cow stuff.

The Maid

gigglepotamus said...

Or upwards, as far as the boobies are concerned.

Question: are bowls full on M&M's a requirement to play Bunco? I hit them HARD everytime (along with the swedish fish).

Bogart in P Towne said...

I hope the MIL does not turn into someone you eat a KK Doughnut just to spite!

Pavel said...

Hi!

Just visiting from Chris H. and you are one very funny person!!!

Good luck with your weight loss goals and thanks for the laughs. You sure didn't offend me...

Brenda said...

Another commonality...the breasts that face two different directions~! Were we seperated at birth? Way to go with the two more pounds! I am so proud of you!!

bloggingbarbie said...

i just wanted to drop in and say that even tough i havent been commenting as of late, i really, really love you. and your posts make me laugh. really, really hard. and make me love you even more.

xoxo, bb