i’ve forgotten to be accountable to myself for a month or more now. it’s pathetic. my weight loss has been more or less nil. last weigh in i was 182.7 with 33.1% body fat… no progress whatsoever.

part of the thing that makes dieting and weight loss hard for me is that i always seem to be attempting it right as one of my good friends is. in this case, it’s my former roommate and best friend who, at her starting weight was 200 pounds, and last week when we went to dinner together, her weight was 165. she’s been on her journey for about 6 months. so in reality, she’s been losing at a consistent, but slow rate… but it just makes me so sick and frustrated when i see her and shes 5, 10 pounds lighter than she was last time.

i am still working out at least once a week, and as i look back, i realize i’ve been working out at that rate for almost a year. a YEAR. this might seem like no big deal– but trust me people, we’re talking about someone who went from being a child athelete, to a complete blob of flob in about a year. i shunned all physical activity at the age of 18 and by the time i was 24 i could barely walk up two flights of stairs. so to do rigorous physical activity on a semi-regular basis is still a challenge, but one that i’ve at least loosely been practicing. so kudos to me…

but the weight loss thing still eats away at me. i’m going to attempt something new diet wise– the Mediterranean diet. we’ll see how it goes.

vent vent vent.

Tonight I am eating out at Jason’s Deli so I’m really going to try and be good and order a veggie sandwich. Today so far I’ve eaten: black coffee, kashi bar, 100 cal pack of almonds, salad with whitefish, two girl scout cookies (damn them), and a diet coke. and water of course.

i want to see 175 on that scale very badly.

So as we all know, this past weekend was the super bowl, which meant a lot of stuffing my face and an apparent 6 (SIX!!!!) pound weight gain for me. Depressing. I get on the scale Friday and weighed in 182.2 … awesome! Sunday night… 188.6! WHAT THE CRAP!?

I know, I know… water weight, bloating, etc etc. It’s still upsetting that I saw such a huge number jump. I know the potato skins, chili, nachos, and beer I had yesterday had a LOT to do with it, too, but one doesn’t expect that one afternoon of lite binge eating equals six pounds of weight. Sigh. The number game, I hate it.

Good things of note:

+I started p90x Friday, and whoa baby did it kick my rear end. Love it!

+I am discontinuing my gym membership because it’s too expensive, but have amassed a large selection of workout DVDs and such, plus spring is allegedly coming so I will be able to run/walk outdoors in only a matter of weeks!

+I found my nalgene bottle so I now have 32 oz of water available to me at all times. Sa-weet.

Bad notes:

-I have a girlfriend who likes to cause drama with me because she can and because I don’t have a lot of backbone; this weekend was her birthday and she is mad at me because I did not attend two nights of drinking in a row. I did go out Friday with her and in my immature style I did drink a bit with her (another diet killer, I know) but that, coupled with the p90x meant that Saturday I was gelatinous and weak and I called her last minute and canceled for the Saturday night portion of birthdaydrinkfest. Now she is pissed off at me, and since I have a mild anxiety disorder (maybe more than mild… maybe more like moderate… or severe) I now have horrible anxiety and guilt about the whole situation and this is negatively affecting my desire to eat healthy, especially confronted with leftovers from the super bowl party (cheese… everywhere). This sounds kinda whiny but it’s the truth.
- I am ungodly sore from p90x and it’s making me afraid to do any more, even though I know it has to be done.
-I spent $50 on magazines this weekend. That was horribly dumb of me.

Today I ate: a bagel with smart balance (bad), black coffee, a diet dr. pepper, chili (way too much of it and it was fairly salty, and of course i put cheese in it– BAD), and for dinner I am aiming for a wrap or sandwich of some kind but will probably consume the leftovers, out of guilt for making them and making too much, and out of depression over my friendship troubles (bad bad bad)

FOOD, WHY MUST YOU BE SUCH A PROBLEM, A DELICIOUS, PAIN-NUMBING PROBLEM!?!?!

Summary: I dont think it needs to be said at this point but ostensibly I am an emotional eater and i think this has a lot to do with my weight loss problems, and I wish I had the means to break this cycle right now…and I’m doing p90x kenpo tonight so I guess it was nice knowing you all, I’m about to meet my maker.

sometimes one just needs to vent, publicly, on the internet, about people they work with, in order to alleviate the rage that builds up inside of one’s brain that could potentially cause an aneurysm or worse, complete mental breakdown and violent lashings-out.

i work as a receptionist in a medical office, and the two other people i work with here are both insane. one talks non-stop all day long, to other people, to herself (audibly), mumbling, brown-nosing, recounting entire episodes of shows on food network to me down to what commercials were broadcast. nonstop talking. literally.

the other has no idea how to convert 2/3 into a decimal.

these two, we’ll call them “S” and “M”, have managed to take a job that is mind-numbingly easy, and turn it into something that neither of them can accomplish without constant direction from me. the defer any task that requires more than the barest minimum of effort to me. they complain that they have too much to do to my boss who then takes it out on me because she sees the fact that they’re constantly busy trying to figure out simple things as a sign that they work harder than i do.

anyway, i will complain about my job regularly, i’m sure. i need to. otherwise i will lose my mind, and jump through the glass door here and run screaming onto the highway.

today i’ve got to eat:

7 BIG strawberries
nutrigrain bar

string cheese (low fat)
baby carrots/ranch dressing combo
unsalted tortilla chips/salsa
tangerine
ginger ale*
and of course, i’m going to try and get 3 full bottles of water in today to drown out the fat.

*(yes, regular, sugar-filled ginger ale. its a huge weakness for me and i realize how bad it is, empty calories, etc)

my most current weigh in was 183.2 pounds (maybe 2 pounds lost:?) 32.8% body fat.

here’s to tuesday. in summary: my job makes me insane and i hope every day that i can find out some way to make money in a way that would make me happy instead of angry and depressed.

It’s Hump Day, joy!

I started running this C25K thing last night. The idea of it is that you alternate running and walking for 30 min segments with increasing running time until you are able to run a 5k. Stupendous, we all say!

Impossible, my aching body says!

As a former smoker and occasional heavy drinker, I can not for the life of me figure out whether my lungs and heart hurt more when I work out heavily, or if its my flabby and weak body that stops me from being truly athletic. (Also I have crap knees that ache all the time, side effects from stretching injuries or somesuch.) Either way, running pains me greatly. I’m doing it though.

I’ve also noticed I have an addiction to beauty products.

So many addictions, so little time.

Summary: I worked out twice this weekend so far and feel pretty good. Today I didn’t sleep on my lunch break. Huge improvement.

Last night I overate with a pork sammich, potatoes drowned in olive oil, and a bowl of broccoli/carrots (hot) with cheese (melted and delicious). The cheese was so good. (I killed it yesterday.)

Today I ate:

2 cups of black coffee
Nutrigrain bar
1.5-2 cups of carrots w/ side of ranch dressing
1 cup of chocolate cheerios
kellogs crap bar
2 clementines

planning on homemade pastrami on wheat sammich tonight w/ side salad in LOW FAT LOW CAL DRESSING IF IT KILLS ME.

Attention Everyone: I have heartburn!

Do you hear me, people of the world? I have A BURNING SENSATION GURGLING UP MY ESOPHAGUS THAT PAINS ME! WOE! PITY ME! I DEMAND YOUR SYMPATHY! AND YOUR MYLANTA!

(I feel a little better, yes.)

Today is January 19th. Today is the first day I blog about my fatness. Usually, I write about how smart, smarmy, and special I am because I am creative and artistic and isn’t that neat-o bandito wowie-dow-dow grand? Instead, and in spite of my self-worshipping ways, I am blogging about my fat stomach, fat thighs, and fat face. I’m going to describe it, own it, and then methodically destroy it by noting its every move, jump, and jiggle.

Oh, does it jiggle.

I am 25 years old, and I weigh somewhere in between 185 and 190 pounds, depending on if I use the scale at my parents house or my boyfriend’s apartment. I’m 5′8″, which means my BMI is somewhere around 28.1-28.9. In other words: I am fat. To make matters worse, I carry all my weight in a nice, centralized location in between my boobs and upper ass area. I resemble a cartoonishly pregnant woman, even though REST ASSURED the only thing I am pregnant with is hunger. For pasta.

Oh god, pasta.

I have horrible persistent heartburn anytime I eat anything remotely acidic, including tomatoes, oranges, milk, coffee, green tea, and the like. I never had heartburn until I was super-duper fat (200 pounds, but we won’t go there) and then it took up residence in me like a niggling dragonfire-hot parasite, and I can’t focus for all the burning that eating gives me. Which makes me depressed, which makes me want to eat, which hurts, which sucks, and the cycle starts again.

The worst though, besides the self-loathing, and embarrassment, and heartburn, is my face. I look at myself in pictures, and I don’t see me. I see this fat chick wearing my clothes, and looking all fat and stupid and ugly, and I think, what the hell is that fat chick stretching out my t-shirts for, the rancid bitch? But the rotund slut is ME, and I won’t accept it. No way could I stand next to my boyfriends cousin and look like an elephant. I mean, I don’t feel so much bigger than her. She looks like a ballerina! I look like Brian Urlacher in a sparkly baby tee! Why!?

I pause now, to adjust my pants, which are achingly tight on me, and to refill my water bottle, the must-have accessory for anyone starting a diet.

Yes, I am fat. My stomach bubbles up over my pants like hot pudding. It puckers and pinches wherever my jeans rest, and bruises if I don’t constantly suck-it-in, suck-it-in. When I lay down, my whole midsection slides down and plops against the bed like a sack of wet sand. There’s a clip from the Simpsons where Homer has a doctor poke his belly to see how long his fat jiggles, and it goes on like an ocean wave for minutes.

My stomach does that. IN REAL LIFE.

I’m blogging about my fat, and about all the fat girl things I do, because I hate this. I want to wear a bikini and frolic on a beach Olivia Newton-John-in-Grease-style, and then giggle and act waifishly stupid for a few seconds because I’m just so damn skinny. I hate my stomach, I hate my face in pictures, and I want to have some confidence about myself for once because I’m getting too old to feel like crap every time I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or dirty windowpane.

Today I ate one cup of chocolate flavored Cheerios, two cups of black coffee, a banana, and some frickin pasta (of all god damned things, I know) for lunch. I also ate a kelloggs breakfast bar (90 calories of crud), a small glass of milk (ok, chocolate milk), and I’m planning on a pork sandwhich on wheat bread and bowl of broccoli for dinner.

I am going to the gym tonight, 35 minutes of cardio on the treadmill, 150 situps, and stretching.

Day one summary: I am fat, miserable, and there ain’t enough Prevacid in the world for these guts of mine.