The Life and Times of a Fat Girl (Rated R)

Good morning peoples.

So the scale keeps moving, I keep getting there. I am finding myself really becoming inspired by all kinds of music recently. Stuff that I wouldn’t normally call “My Style.”

I ended up watching this Dixie Chicks documentary called “Shut up and Sing” and I had no idea how much I had in common with these women. Just meaning my love of bluegrass and my unwillingness to shut up when I was told to. I really have so much respect for them now and have spent my morning drinking coffee and downloading their music. This whole blog isnt about just about them, so keep reading. ha-ha.
I used to have one song on my Ipod because my mom once told me that it reminded her of me. I think that might have been one of the only nice things she ever said to me. The song is called Wide Open Spaces and it was really the first time I gave the band my full attention. But the more I think about it – she basically was challenging me to find my own way in life. When I did find my own way – and became more than I could have ever pictured myself doing- she hated me for my choices, my ideals, my moral fortitude and my continuous strength to fight against the mistakes she makes. Not that I am self righteous but when you deal with someone who is totally inept of taking any kind of criticism and bettering themselves from it – it makes having that person in your life very, very difficult.

People would rather just tell me I am being dramatic, and categorizing me into that classification of person, than understanding where I am coming from. You get tired of it and throw your hands up. Eventually those people will self-destruct and see you for who you really are – a know it all who is rarely wrong. Living in a family of alcoholics is an M’Fer. Especially when you don’t drink.

I think I mentioned this briefly before – but the world of my family has become totally weird and different. I declared my self-changing strategy. People around me began to compete with me, all joining different diets, telling me about all “the success” that they are having. Not one of them will pay me a compliment. Almost 20 pounds gone and not one paid. Before, when it would have bugged the shit out of me, I just don’t give a frog’s fat ass anymore. I have always been the odd man out and when the weapons were drawn 3 years ago, when my parents decided to force the family on sides when they decided to call it quits – I stood at the forefront waiting to take the bullet for all of them.

So here I sit – filled with holes, and while the rest of them banded together, I am the only one still walking on my own two feet. I follow no one. I take the long road. I may have to learn the hard way from my mistakes and battle to occasional crazy-pants moment, but I still have a better head on my shoulders than most of them do. Someday.. Something really amazing is going to happen to me and as long as I know that – they can all kiss my ass.

Eileen was right, - I’m not broken. I just let the idiots around me force me into Stockholm’s Syndrome – and drag me right down the drain or moronic bullshit with them.

Back on point.

Bluegrass seems a stretch from a kid who has blue hair and piercing in high school. But as I get older I am finding that my tastes in what I listen to are becoming more eclectic – my musical talents are growing. I decided that once the weight is gone I think I am gonna have the balls to finally record my CD. All of those years of music and lyrics tossed into one book. Just collecting dust with no confidence to sing them aloud for the whole world to hear. I was always terrified of being that fat girl singer. Poor Carnie Wilson.

For me this weight loss just means the completion of something. Anything. It has gotten me to write the chapters of my book, finish music, and make my self more stabilized. Looking good nekked is just a bonus.

Q: What happens when Paula doesnt have red meat for years, and years and years and then consumes it?

A: The bathroom trip from hell. I don’t get it - it was insannnneeeely lean.

Changing of plans, change of venue, change of me.

The magic number is 1677 and thus begins my calorie counting.
The funny part about this is that I ate more today – and healthier than I have in weeks. I found myself walking tonight and I just kept going, and going and going and going and going. I ended up walking longer and faster than I have before.

I hoping this will really kick start my weight loss. Guys, I have got to hit that goal by the end of the month or I will lose my mind. I just need to see it. I know I am beginning to sound redundant but it is the only that is can keep myself going.

I missed my goal – under – and only made it to 1563.

But by no means did I starve myself.

I am way pooped but more good news to come tomorrow.

My real post for today lies beneath this one. But you guys need to start watermarking your before and after pictures when you post them on the forum. Why? Read the thread below.

http://www.3fatchicks.com/forum/showthread.php?t=151067

So….. the weirdest friggan thing happened this morning. So I sit down at my, so-far-from-combobulated-there-could-be-an-alien-life-form-living-on-it-and-I-would-have-no-idea, desk this morning.

There was a picture of me sitting on it. Now, I have no clue how it got there, or even where the friggan picture came from, but, I found it to be really amusing that this picture from the past just appeared out of nowhere. The last time I saw it, it was at the bottom of one of those “I could hide a human body in this sized” rubbermaid containers that I keep all my oldest junk in. It was a picture from 2002, when I was 20 years old with my two best friends at an Olive Garden in Hyannis Ma. I have just lost 60 pounds on WW and at this moment I was off the diet. I am 50 pounds heavier now – than I was then. I think I was about 220 in this photo

I don’t know what to think, many would call it inspiring, but I don’t see it that way. I just see it as a great annoyance because less than 2 months from then i would meet my boyfriend that I am still with. It is really sad to think about it - but I still see myself as the fat one in this picture even though it is 30 pounds away from the lost weight I have now. Scary, Sad, such a long way to go. The girl in the picture is filled with young hope, the ignorance of everything that would come in the years ahead of her. The demise of her family. The abuse suffered in the garage that I once called my room because my mother just got sick of taking it and allowed me to be her scape goat. I have aged so much since that moment and I am realizing how much the past is beginning to be held on my face as a permanent fixture. She has her whole life ahead of her … and the result that is left is sitting here typing this entry. Broken, bloated, depressed. No love, loyalty, friendship left after the divorce. Forced to take care of her baby sister. Forced to play the mind games of people who are so concerned with their own well being that they forgot what it is like to stay together as a team. How did this girl in the picture not break down and just give up? How did she not resort to drinking? Because the food she would force down her throat would ease whatever pain she was in - and the older version is now paying the consequences.

This entry has become a bit melancholy and I apologize for that… there has been a lot of my mind lately, which is making my weight loss an after thought. It could be a good thing because it keeping my mind off of food. Could be a bad thing because my weight loss, as I said to Eileen in a recent comment on her blog, could land me in a prison yard being someone’s bitch as I pump iron on the prison diet.

I guess even the funny fat girl has to have a lapse sometimes.

Oh, and the HTML on this blog can still - eat me.

Okay, so i got kind of pissed last night. Don’t blame the food. Blame my bastard father moving into my living room. 27 years old and I still feel like that fat kid hiding in the garage hoping he doesnt get wasted and pick a fight with me. This is such crap.

The man eats me out of house and home – and when I tell him we are going to have to go and figure out a way to get money for groceries – flat out refuses to give in.  My sisters are useless slag’s. My mother, well, we all know how she is.

I work at home, as I have said about 30 bajillion times before, and the idea of having this asshole meandering around doing NOTHING and just being a total [insert the worst curse word you can find] .

I am filled with anxiety and annoyance, and I am not going to food, which is good. But I am pounding the cigarettes like no one can even imagine. I am losing my mind. I am sitting here looking at the blank screen and I just want to break down.

I usually have a lot of fun with this thing but tonight I am just miserable and sad.

So I will let LOL Catz do my bidding.

You know what, how about not editing our HTML when we try to post something. Or even better why dont you give us control of if we want a YouTube video on this God damn thing.

3 fat chicks, you need to look into this shit. It is totally moronic. It is like a blog for the internet-retarded. Let me add some media on this piece of crap. Not only soccer moms are trying to talk about their weight loss…. there are some tech-savvy 20 something bitches in this cyber land of pound drop-age too.

Well folks i made a You Tube video and a tutorial on how you guys could make a slide show on how to do it for your own blogs, but embedding is refused in the code here.

Totally idiotic.

244.2 BITCHES!

That’s right.  Overnight I went from Morbid to just Obese.
I am aware how morbid in humor that sounds but it is amazing… just amazing.

I am gonna take some pictures tonight and form my first before and after collage.

I love you guys, I love you guys, I love you guys.

Dear Hanna,

Why you gots to be ruining on my fitness mojo with your 70MPH winds, rain and the occasional tornado?  Hm? Yeah, great. No walking for me.

So there was this joke that this (other) fat kid I knew once told me…

Q:What do fat people do in the summer time?

A: Stink.

Well, that is what happened to me today, when we Yanks suffered the highest humidity levels we have had in 3 years. The air was not moving, and the Jimmy Buffet CD title, Barometer Soup, became so true I felt like just walking around I was doing laps in a pool. Andy and I turned the air conditioning on last night, calling it the “sub-artic last hurrah” of the summer. I walked out of my bedroom this morning and the only thing that could come out of my mouth was “UGGGGGGGGGH.”

The AC has been on all day and I spent the majority of the afternoon playing mandolin (badly, it is a lefty instrument and I am a righty in every other instrument I play, so the mandolin is played upside down in my instance) My point is the AC gives me a hell of a migraine and so I spent the whole day in these lame sunglasses. It saves me from the nausea. Fat girl in boxers and a tank, in aviator shades, playing an instrument upside down that is too small for anyone – hotness.

Good thing my dog loves me.

I just feel so trapped inside and wish the weather would cease. It just makes me even more nervous for the coming winter months and I really hope I get some kind of equipment in my house for those days when it is too cold for walking outdoors. I don’t want to become lethargic when facing those winter blues

Well folks, we hit 255 this morning, and I actually performed the entire dance to Thriller in my underwear upon exiting the bathroom.

It was a glorious moment, well, until my crazzzzy Portuguese elderly neighbors realized that I was watching them, watch me. I can only imagine what they think about the unmarried 27 year old with two dogs doing a full on 80’s dance in pastel yellow panties. It was hot; you all know you want it. (Distant crickets)

I feel like these people are somehow going to be a comical element when I finally get my ass moving to write my book. They see me everyday, mounting my bike, wearing the same white long sleeved shirt when I go on my walks, they see me sweat, they see me cook, and I almost feel like incorporating them, and their apparent voyeurism, into a type of Statler and Waldorf, if you will. It is easier to keep their obvious staring at bay during the winter months - when the sunshine isn’t fabulous and the breeze isn’t nice.

For those of you who are Muppet-tarded – Statler and Waldorf are those hecklers from the muppet show that sit in the balcony claiming how bad the performance is.

Oh, and for those of you that are lost on the Star Wars Bantha reference – The second picture is for you.

So seeing that my recent success was sending me in to cloud nine – I decided to try on this pair of black pants that have been hiding in my closet for 2 years. I bought them because they were my size and when I got home I couldn’t even get them past my thighs. I could have returned them but something in my gut told me it just wasn’t worth it. So, 255 meant it was time to try the damn things on. I was ½ excited when I could get them past my thighs. I was more excited when they covered my butt. I was less excited when I finally buttoned them they created one of the largest muffin tops you have ever seen in your life. I didn’t cry but instead started cracking up.

I looked like a chunk of breakfast, which brought me into the blueberries, which brought me to Violet Beauregard. Violet, I was turning Violet, Violet. Not just because of the muffin my midsection had created – but because I think if I left them this way I would have trouble breathing and start to turn purple. It is amazing how my mind works sometimes. But I was cracking up. My dogs, Brisco and Kenobi, stared at me like I was insane.

Oh, and if you see missing posts on this blog – it is because I made the mistake of telling my mother, who has begun South Beach, about this website. Seeing that those posts were basically ripping her a new one – I put them on private. Lol. I am such an idiot.