Dear Karma:

Please stop kicking my ass! I don't know what I did to piss you off, but whatever it was, I'm super sorry!! Whatever it takes to get my universe back into check, I'll do it! I swear, I'll keep my eyes open for old ladies who need help crossing the street, and the next time I go through the Tim Horton's drive through, I'll totally pay for the guy behind me, even if he gets more than just coffee and a doughnut. Will that make me square with the house again? Pretty please?*sigh*

Over the past week or so, both my boys have been sick. SO sick. Sicker than I've ever seen either of them (admittedly, I'm blessed with kids who were never colicky or croupy, never been on antibiotics or had an ear infection, so hate me if you must). It started out with puking, and then moved on to them just running a fever and languishing in bed for days moaning and looking pitiful as I beg them to drink Pedialyte. It's horrible. And the worst part of it? I'm such a horrible person (hmm...maybe this is part of that whole Karma thing...) that during all of it, I'm terrified that I'M going to get it and that I'M going to throw up! I know!! Bad mother! BAD!

But the thing is, since I got my band, I haven't puked. Not even a PB. And I live in fear of puking and slipping my band! I realize that puking at some point is ineveitable. And that some of you do it on a fairly regular basis with no band slippage. And yet...I'm terrified. My hands are raw from having washed them so many times. I'm psychotic...I know this.

Thank you for letting me vent. And if any of you have any ins with Ms. Karma, can you whisper a word in her ear on my behalf? Rock on.

Progress Pictures Because I Feel Like It!

I'm feeling a little bored and lonely today...so I'm posting a couple of pictures, because sometimes it just makes you happy to see how far you've come...

Sadly, that trip to Belfast (above) was nowhere near as fun as it could have been...as it would be if I were in this body now. I will go back though. And I will do EVERYTHING I want to do.

Body Pump

Sweet Jesus. I will post more when my arms stop shaking and I can lift them past my chest.

Pantry...OF DOOM!!!

You people disappoint me! I thought there were going to be pages of freakiness after my last post, but either you're all too chicken to admit what freakshows you truly are or...and this is pretty possible...perhaps I am one who is the freakshow? Noooo. Crap.

So, I've been thinking about food a lot these past few weeks (aka: every second of my entire life, but I mean MORESO these past few weeks), and I've been trying to be more critical of myself. I don't just mean not buying the really awesome looking package of licorice that's on sale for practically NOTHING because the KIDS would love it (seriously...they were practically paying ME to take it! But I digress...). I mean looking at the crap I already have in my house, and wondering what the hell?

There's dog food in here from the dog I don't even have any more.

You people have pantries, right? I have one. It's overflowing. But don't worry...I'll still go grocery shopping at least 2 more times this week and add to it. However, right now, I'm going to take you through it a little, as a way of talking out some of my crazy.

Do we have enough BBQ sauce?? And packages of plastic cutlery? I hope so!

#1. Why can't I walk past a can of Chunky Soup on sale without buying it? Is it because I think that the inner debate over whether to eat it with a fork or a spoon might burn calories? Is it because it's just SO damn chunky? Is it because it eats like a meal? I don't know, but man...I buy a lot of that crap. But I don't eat it. I feed it to my family. Because apparently, their sodium levels are of no concern to me. I suck!

#2. I own more pasta than anyone ever has in the history of man. We eat pasta maybe once a week. But if I see a bag of reasonably-priced bow tie pasta, I just have to have it. I HAVE to!

Thank gods, I'm not running out of jars of Alfredo sauce any time soon!

#3. According to my pantry, clearly I fear that someday soon, there is going to be a shortage of mayonnaise and mayonnaise based products. No worries, sandwich lovers; I am covered!

#4. Jello. So...when I had my surgery, one of the things on the shopping list was jello. Because there's always room for Jello! Want to know what I hate? JELLO! And I had like 10 boxes of it in there anyway! But I bought MORE, because why? They told me to? Well, at this point, I could pretty much encase one of the children in jello if I wanted to. Maybe that will be a summer project.

#5. I have more boxes of cereal than the good folks at Kellogs. This is just a small sampling. I have a problem.

Upon closer inspection of the pantry today, I discovered that I have food in there that has moved with me twice. And I've lived in this house for 11 years. I wouldn't even donate that to the food bank at this point. And yet...there it sits. Looking at me. Judging me. Eff you, Mr. Christie! You make good cookies, but STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!

Discuss.

Food Weirdness?

So today, I was reading blogs, and although Catherine55's (I'll link you to her, but really, I'm sure you already follow her, since she was my first...*blush*) post today was about much more than this, what I took from it was this: she has "Food Weirdness"!

When I look at Catherine (and I've met her in person...yes, you can touch me, I'm real), she seems so poised and so delightfully together...who could have guessed that she is afflicted with FOOD WEIRDNESS?? Not me, but I tell you, I did some mental cartwheels when I discovered that I'm not the only one! So I decided that I'd make a list of my food weirdnesses. Because, come on...if you spend as much time thinking about...fantasizing about...lusting over food as I do; well...somewhere along the line, it's gotta branch off into some sort of psychosis. However...for now, let's call it food weirdnesses! It would be super awesome if everyone chimed in with the ones they share (or shiny new ones!), so I don't feel lonely!

1) Leftovers. Generally, I don't eat them. It's not that I don't think they're going to be good...I just don't like to eat them. But I'll happily serve them to my family. Which probably highlights some different underlying psychosis, but screw those guys! Survival of the fittest...right?

2) The first slice of bread. I don't mean the heel, because obviously nobody would eat that (except my father, who has, for my entire life, been trying to convince me that he grew up surrounded by people who would fight over the heel of the bread because it was so delicious. Um WHAT?? Sorry, old man...I'm not buying what you're selling!) I mean the first slice after that. While I'd gladly make YOU a sammich made out of that slice, screw that...when it comes to ME, I'm going for the second and third slice. I have no idea why.

3) Cheese. I practically live on it. However, if the package of cheese has been opened, the first slice...yes, I know you've already gleaned that I'll pawn that off on some nearby, unsuspecting family member, but if there's no other suckers around, I'll throw that slice out. Because it tastes like bag or something! Come ON!

4) McChicken. I know, you're all looking down at me already because I typed those 2 letters. Mc. Good...be judgey...McDonalds is the devil. But fuck ME that McChicken sandwich is delicious! I'm completely aware that it's never seen a chicken. But whatever it it...processed Big Bird meat, or dragon, or baby...I don't care...it is heaven and I will never stop eating it! But I can't eat it as a sammich. Here's what I do: I take it apart. Then I take the top bun, and the bottom bun, all the lovely mayonnaise (or McChicken sauce or crack, or whatever the McDonald's corporation calls it these days) and "lettuce" and I smoosh those together and eat those. And then, and only then, do I eat the McChicken patty. Naked. Or if there's a little bit of "lettuce" left in the wrapper, I'll toss the shreds on there...like maybe on the last bite. For orgasmic bliss. I know. I'm shaking my own head in disgust right along with you.

5. Eggs. I can't eat them. It's not that I don't like how they taste...I find them to be unoffensive. It's more the IDEA of them that I have a problem with..but if I eat them (I'm talking scrambled or in an omelette with a bunch of other crap that disguises the actual egg), I feel like I'm going to barf. I WANT to like eggs. I would LOVE to like them! They're high in protein, and so easy to cook. But I can't do it, man. I can't.

6. Bananas. See above. They make feel like I'm going to puke. And this is all pre-band, by the way. Ironically, I love banana flavoured stuff. I'd eat the shit out of a banana cream pie! I'd trample my mother for a bite of banana gelato. I'm not proud of this.

That's all I can think of for now. I'm sure there are more; I'll do a "Food Weirdness 2.0" post, if it's warranted. But for now, I just can't wait to hear how many of you are freaks like me!

Post Workout Glow

So this whole gym thing has been going for about a week and a half now. I'm feeling much less overwhelmed. I even did a Zumba class - the first since August! It was SUPER crowded, but I went with a girlfriend, so that meant no chickening out. I HAVE, however, chickened out of BodyPump twice. I'll do it, because I want to do it...it's just that I've been spending a good portion of my workout time on the weight machines, and frankly...OW! Yep...I'm a little sore at the moment. I keep telling myself that I'm gaining muscle, and that muscle is what's going to start my little fat-burning stove going again. It's very motivating!

Now let's talk about eating. It's been...un-good...for the past few days. And by un-good, I mean that I've eaten an ENTIRE bag of Miss Vickie's Kettle Cooked Sea Salt And Malt Vinegar chips. The entire LARGE SIZED bag. We're not talking any little pussy-single-serving-250-calorie-sized bag. And not in steps. Just the whole thing. And then I felt siiiiiiiiiick. Like praying-for-sweet-death-to-come-and-take-me kind of sick. So the next day, I decided that it would be a good thing for me to do liquids all day. Until I saw that piece of cake on sale for just $2.49. Which I bought. And then ate. Ugh. So what I'm saying here is that somehow, I need to tell my stupid fat-girl head that my hot fat-girl ass is trying to get in shape, so STOP thinking about food ALL the effing time!!! And REALLY stop EATING it all!