Wednesday, August 25, 2010

New Friends/Old Friends

At work I share a cubicle with a pretty cool chick. We'll call her Not Britney, because she looks just like Britney Spears but taller and plus size, so not totally like Britney Spears. Get it? And she can't sing. I asked.

I knew we were going to be great friends when she sat down at her desk one morning and said "I just have to say this. My boobs look amazing in this top."

We spend a lot of time talking and laughing and being shushed. It's awesome.

The following is an actual conversation Not Britney and I had this morning:

Me: Dude! This guy I just talked to? His last name was Dookie! It was so hard to say "Thank you Mr. Dookie" and keep a straight face. I had to put him on hold because I couldn't hold my giggles.

She: I heard you say Mr. Dookie and I started laughing.

Me: We are so immature.

She: Yeah, well at least you didn't have to talk to Mr. Glasscock. That was awkward.

I love her.

I have started a daily coffee habit. I was buying it every day, but over the weekend I realized I actually have a little coffee maker. I never ever make coffee at home unless my mom is staying the night with us and then she makes it for herself every morning. So I dug out my little 4 cupper and set the timer for the next morning and at 6:00 AM, POOF! Coffee! A coffee machine with a timer! Greatest invention EVER. I even bought my own fat free vanilla creamer for it.

The only problem? The insulated coffee mug thingie I use for my morning commute to work is the one I got at the Bank of Hell. And it has the Bank of Hell's logo on it. And I am pretty sure bad mojo is seeping into my coffee from it and I'll probably get some kind of cancer and die. And I hate that place and feel like such a hypocrite for drinking my delicious hazelnut vanilla coffee from it every morning. But it's the perfect size! And it keeps my coffee so nice and hot! And I hate myself for it.

So this morning I texted Travis my dilemma. Being a former Bank of Hell employee, I figured he would understand. This is our actual textversation:

Me: I have a new daily coffee habit. And I am drinking it out of my [Bank of Hell] mug every morning. I feel like such a hypocrite.

Trav: I have new daily heroin habit. And I use my [Bank of Hell] syringe to inject it every morning. But I don't feel bad because it's good heroin.
Trav: And I named my syringe [Banker Bitch Barbie] because it's plastic and empty.

I miss him.

I love that good or bad, my adventures as a working mom have brought amazing people into my life. I'm thankful.

And I'm a total of six pounds lighter. Cyber high five for Fat Campers everywhere!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

I know. I hate it that I don't have time to blog anymore...

My oh my where do I begin?

Well you may have noticed I look a little different. I have actually lost three point four pounds thankyouverymuch.

It is hard. I hate it. I'm hungry. I am seriously considering eating my keyboard but I have no idea how many points it is. It's not in the book. I looked. Kim is doing awesome, too. However she does not ever look ugly for Fat Camp. I am pretty sure she is competing with me to be the hottest chick there. Bitch. But I did have a wonderful time with her yesterday plotting who we were going to run over in the parking lot for bragging about how much weight they had lost. One lady lost seven pounds! SEVEN!! In one week! So of course Kim and I hate her and have vowed to never be her friend.

I can totally picture Kim sitting at home reading this (Like how I totally assume my friends actually read my blog?? When they have to put up withe me in person?? I know! Hysterical!) and shaking her curly head and rolling her eyes going "I am not competing with you to be the hottest chick at Fat Camp, April. [LIAR!!] And I never vowed to hate anyone."

And she's right. We didn't vow to hate anyone, I was totally exaggerating. We did however discuss who each of us would run over in the parking lot when we left the meeting. (Is that right? Who? Or should I have used whom in that sentence? Still, I can never remember that rule. What a waste of time in Honors English. Should have been flirting with the boys like I did in French.)

Enough with the Fat Camp stories for today...

My babies started school yesterday and I had to miss it. I couldn't take them, Uberman had to. I was sad and devastated all day and felt like a crap mom. But because I am still in training, I couldn't take time off work. It sucked. My first year in 7 years that I haven't been able to make them pancakes and help them get ready. I still made pancakes, I just had to make them the night before. But still. Reheated pancakes on the first day of school? Sad. Just sad.

Apparently they were not too traumatized. They all had a fab day and were very excited to catch up with their friends, and in Boo's case, show off her new clothes. I'm in trouble with that girl. She loves fashion. I asked her what was her favorite part of her first day of first grade? She answered "My new clothes. I looked fabulous. Right down to my Twinkle Toes." Oy vay.

I will resume my Monday Interviews shortly. I just haven't had time to make them fabulous. I've been trying to spend less time on the computer. Unfortunately it's the blog that has suffered. And my Google Reader?? Holy Haysoos. I almost had a heart attack when I logged on a few days ago. Too overwhelming how many posts I have to read. Double Oy Vay.

Oh and I'm going to Europe in 72 days.

So what have you been up to?

Monday, August 9, 2010

I totally don't want this to turn into a weight loss blog...

So I am about to leave for the big WW. Or Fat Camp. I think we'll call it Fat Camp just to make it sound more fun.

My friend Kim is going with me. And she is like my most gorgeous friend. So I'm a little bitter about already not being the hot chick at Fat Camp. I was really looking forward to having that going for me, but whatever. I guess I should just be thankful for the company, right? At least I won't be Lonely Fat Chick at Fat Camp, right? So thanks Kim! I love you!

And just to let you know, I stripped off all my jewelry, except my wedding ring because who are we kidding? I don't have the time or butter to get it off my finger when I need to be there in thirty minutes. I am also wearing a t-shirt and hideous cropped sweat pants because they are light and I can breathe in them. And I just know Kim is going to show up looking gorgeous with her wild curly hair and beautiful blue-green eyes and angels will sing as soon as she walks in the room. Note to self: Call Kim next week to remind her to look ugly for Fat Camp.

I really want some Pretzel M&M's right now. And I totally have some. Downstairs. On the counter. Taunting me with their deliciousness as I walk by. But I'm not going to do it. Because what I want more than Pretzel M&M's is to not be fat anymore. And to stop losing buttons off my pants. And to breathe in my clothes again. And to not die of a heart attack/diabetes/chicken bone choking related death.

And to wear leather pants some day.

Cross your fingers and toes I don't break the scale.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Fatty McFatterson

So you guys know how Oprah says God gives you a pebble before He smacks you upside the head with a brick? Well last week I sat down at my desk, and the button popped off my pants with such velocity it could have seriously injured an innocent bystander. Like a gunshot people, I am not joking here.

What. The. Hell?

I have been at the awesome new job for 8 weeks and have gained an astonishing 10 pounds. 10 pounds. TEN FREAKING POUNDS. This is a disgrace.

After losing all that weight three years ago, and I have so proudly kept it off. I mean, yeah I have fluctuated 5 pounds or so, but not 10. TEN!! Oh the humanity! Or humility? Whatever. I am FAT.

This has to stop. Like right now. And I don't even know what has caused this upward spiral. It could be Warm Cookie Wednesday. I know right? My new employer rocks. It could be the vanilla cream in all the coffee I am drinking. It could be that I am used to being on my feet all day and now I am sitting on my fat ass at a desk all day. But seriously, I have not changed my eating habits hardly at all. Other than Warm Cookie Wednesday, that is.

I don't know what to do. I need to get back in the game. I am way too cute to be this fat. How embarrassing. I am just a few pounds shy of becoming some horrific fat chick choking to death on a chicken bone cliche.

I need to do Weight Watchers again. And I hate it! Because you know what that means? Drinking a bunch of water all day. Blech! And attending meetings with a bunch of other fat people complaining about how hungry we are. Gah! And weigh ins! Oy vay!!

But I don't want to die of heart attack. I don't want to get diabetes. I don't want high blood pressure. And I want to wear a pair of leather pants before I die! Leather pants, people!!

And seriously, like I need another freaking appointment on my schedule. Good Lord! And I can't do it this week because we are having Uberman's "Beerday" party on Saturday. Who wants to be on a diet when Diane is bringing her famous Margaritas? No. Thank. You.

But no more excuses! Next week is it! I'm going! Kicking and screaming! But at least I'm burning calories with all the fuss....