I am bad at this

I have not blogged in months. I have only lost about 10 lbs in months.  I should feel worse about this than I do.  Dipping my toes back in the blogosphere.  Hopefully it will be the prompt I need to stop eating flan and sitting on my lazy ass.

I gained 2 lbs! Hallelujah!!

I am not even being sarcastic. I am thrilled that I gained 2 lbs.  I was in Jamaica for 6 days and ate at a buffet for 99% of all my meals.  I also drank my face off.  Gaining only 2 lbs is NOT something that I would have done this time last year.  I would have gained at least 10 and I would have been miserable.  But I wasn't miserable.  I was hot.  People, I WORE A BATHING SUIT WITHOUT A COVERUP!!!!!  Not all the time, but I did walk to and from the bathroom once or twice.  I let my cousin take a picture of me in a bathing suit.

I could literally cry right now.  This is the first vacation that I have had ever where I didn't spend the whole time wishing I had dieted before I left.  Wishing that I wasn't the fat friend.  Wishing that I didn't hate myself so much.  This was the first time that I danced shamelessly at the wedding.  That I strutted around like the hottest bitch at the party because you know what? I WAS.  (Well not the hottest, but definitely in the top 10!)  Even if that is not true, that is how I felt.  My sister said to my cousin last night when he picked us up at the airport "You should have seen Nikki.  She was FIRE all weekend.  She even rocked me she looked so good." She has no idea how happy that one offhand comment made me because that is how I felt.  I am so happy that for once, my outsides matched my insides.  I was confident and felt great and it showed. I have a few NSVs and then I will let you guys be the judges of how confidently happy I looked at the wedding.

• I walked around in a bathing suit (with and without a coverup) and didn't want to kill myself
• I may or may not have made out with the cute bartender at the pool bar (That is not an NSV, but just a sweet side effect of feeling so confident.)
• I didn't sweat profusely even when it was hot.  Getting ready for the wedding, everyone was complaining about how hot it was and I didn't even break into a light dew.  I used to be the biggest sweater in any room, but I only got a little moist while dancing.  This, my fellow formerly morbidly obese sweaty friends, you know is huge.
• One of the guys from the day of "THE PICTURE" was there. (You know the picture.  See below in the black dress.)  He has not seen me since that day.  He said "I don't remember you looking this sexy that day you were sitting on the cooler at the picnic."  He also commented on how slowly I eat.  He said "It's cute and all, but sometimes I get aggravated and want to tell you to hurry the hell up so we can leave the restaurant."  I just laughed and continued eating at a snail's pace like a good bandster.
• My dress was not plus sized! Ladies, there are so many more options for formal wear once you get out of the plus sizes.  Who knew.  For once I didn't have to wear something matronly.  It's like all stores think that if you are overweight you are automatically the mother of the groom.  

I am really truly happy with myself right now.  I still have a ways to go, but I am enjoying the trip so much I am not even concerned about when I'll get there.

Without further ado, the evidence.

Please recall the tragic days at the end of last summer:

Now indulge me while I post waaaaaay too many pics of myself, but it is my blog and I am allowed to be a little vain.

The Perfect Storm

I had my first PB today. I was in a bowling alley in Pittsburgh pre-game for SuperBowling. All I ate was one piece of broccoli and a tiny bite of fish. Why would this cause me to get sick? Perhaps because I have been tight as a drum all weekend. I think I have hit upon every band tightening cause out there. Let's check:

5 days post fill
Period came this morning
Fighting a cold
Flew Thursday and today
Job interview tomorrow (stress)

Did I miss anything? I am so annoyed because band life has been a breeze for me. Now because I've been so pathetic and tight all weekend, my family I was visiting probably think I'm insane for doing this. Ugh. I just want to be able to eat something. Anything.

Total downer these last couple of posts. To end on a light note, I am dancing around being 70 lbs down. I'll be sure to celebrate with a small sip of water and maybe a Tic Tac. Do they make those in protein flavor?

Too Tight?

I had my fourth fill yesterday and I think it was too much. I am still on liquids. Last night I had soup and had no problems. Right now I am struggling drinking water. I'm getting the left shoulder pain. So frustrated!! I'm getting a cold and I am also stressed out. That might be part of the issue. Crap. I'm also flying tomorrow. Great. A mini vacation where I can't eat or drink. Any Pittsburgh bandsters out there want to be on call to recommend an emergency unfill doctor.

Validation by . . . stripper?

Let me introduce you to my new best friend.  His name is M-essi-ah.  I added though dashes because I get the feeling that he is the kinda guy who googles himself obsessively.  Here is a visual to get the story going:

There I was at the bachelorette party.  I was the designated driver because the shower was for my sister's best friend, so I figured she deserved to get as silly as she wanted to.  So keep in mind that I am stone sober for all of this.  Everything was good until the entertainment arrived.  Now, I am not a prude.  I like to think of myself as fairly laid back and open minded.  That is until last night when I went to my first "stripper at a private party" party. 

I was SHOCKED!!!!  I blushed.  I had to leave the room for bits of time.  And then my sister--well into the vodka by this time--points to me and sends our guy my way.  I was terrified and horrified all at once.  You see, he kept picking the women up.  As a forever fatty, having a guy try to pick me up fills me with fear.  I used to hang out with a guy that was always picked up his friends.  (I was young. Don't ask.) Anytime he tried to pick me up, I dropped to the ground like a sack of flour.  It was the only way I knew to make him stop.  Humiliating.  We are no longer friends.

Anyway, there I was in the middle of the floor swaying with terror when I said to Messy, "I am too heavy.  Please don't pick me up.  You'll drop me on my head and I will be paralyzed."  I swear to you that is exactly the ridiculous thing I said to the stripper.  He says, "Relax."  As if.  Then he lifted me up and ordered me to put my legs around his waist.  I was so scared that I did.  He released one hand and started dancing and said "Look. One hand."  I was dumbfounded.

After the show, as he handed me a card in case I want to book him for another party, he said, "I told you you weren't heavy."  Say what????  YES I AM.  I told him that I have lost a lot of weight recently so I guess I haven't processed it yet.  I HAVE NO FILTER.  The stripper does not care about my weight loss for chrissakes.  He just wanted a tip!!!  But he responded, "well get used to guys being able to pick you up and toss you around now."  I tipped him. 

Not because I want to be "tossed around" (well kinda), but because without even knowing it, he gave me such a great NSV.  A man--albeit a very muscley one--picked me up and didn't break his back or grunt with the effort.  Thanks, Messy.  I owe you one. 

The other highlight of the night was the bartender.  He is a personal trainer who was doing a favor for a friend.  We talked all night.  I am hoping that he asks our mutual friend for my number.  Ladies, please please pray because, well . . . look at him:

And for good measure here is a picture of me and my sister.  The bridesmaids all wore bustiers.  She does not normally dress like a French hooker, but she looked damn good.

wish my arm wasn't so fat, but look at that tiny curve at the waist!!!

Conrad

I just looked up the meaning of the name Conrad and it says "Bold; wise counselor."  I was shocked to find that it didn't mean "of Satan; the Devil's minion."  Conrad is my new trainer.  We had our first session today.  I am typing this with my arms glued to my sides because if I lift them, I cry.

Here's the thing though: I have been doing strength training on my own every other day for almost two months.  I have NEVER been this sore.  I feel like I have been wasting time.  I know that's not true because any calorie burned counts, but, damn, I wish I had shelled out for a Conrad sooner. I am about 4-5 good workouts away from fitting comfortably in the bathing suits of my dreams for Jamaica.  Remember these sexy little things?

I have also started doing the Couch to 5K training program and signed up for a 5K on March 6.  I hope to run the whole thing.  It may take me 90 minutes, but I'm doing it!!!

On the weight loss front, I think I am starting to see a pattern.  I tend to lose big (3-4 lb/week) for two weeks of the month and then I piddle around at .8-1 for the other two (if I don't gain .6).  I am not going to obsess about how to make it consistent (read: I am going to think about nothing else for weeks).  The point is that it is coming off. 

When they said you lose between 1-2lbs a week with the lap band I, of course, thought, "Oh hell no!  I am going to lose 4 every week and get to my goal in no time."  I have a little problem with patience.  I suppose if I really put my mind to it and tracked every single calorie and never gave into the cravings for cake and never had wine with friends, I could do that.  But, I learned something pretty important over the last 4 months.  Having a life is fun and oh so necessary.  The self-imposed exile of obesity is no way to live just as the anal, obsessive, food nazi is no way to live either.  So we come to my word of 2011.  I have gone back and forth between patience and moderation.  But, I think that patience is really what I need to focus on.

 /ˈpeɪʃəns/ Show Spelled[pey-shuhns] 

–noun

2.

an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay: to have patience with a slow learner.

3.

quiet, steady perseverance; even-tempered care; diligence: to work with patience.

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.”--Tolstoy

I'm Lovin It!

Last night was an impromptu picture night.  Rebecca and I met for dinner and then hauled our cookies--literally--up to Meghan's for wine, The Bachelor, and pictures!  I am very tempted to post the violin video, but I won't.  I love my friends.  Rebecca said the nicest thing to me last night.  She said that I looked like a girl--not a heavy girl--just a girl. I still have so much to lose, but compliments like that really spur me on.  They also both told me that I looked like a fool in the pants that I was wearing, so I will very shortly have some stuff for the Sisterhood. 

So here they are. Month 4 of the most unflattering outfit.  (Click on them to make them bigger.) The shorts no longer look like spandex and I can actually stand with my legs together.  Things are coming along nicely!

The Sunday Blues

I am really pissed at myself today because I have been eating like crap all weekend and just generally feeling like crap too.  I drank way too much on Friday night.  Sugary, fruity drinks and party noshes are a bad combo.  Even yesterday I ate like crap.  I did it knowingly with the excuse that it was still a holiday.  I am talking sesame shrimp and cookies bad. 

I feel like I was colluding with the old me all weekend.  The me that let myself get up to 310 lbs.  The me who used any excuse to eat like shit and not go to the gym.  Arbor Day?  Bring on the cake!!  UGH.  I hate that part of myself.  I think it is the part of me that is kinda scared by the changes that I am seeing. 

My belt is too big.  I should be excited by that--and believe me I am--but at the same time, I remember when I bought this belt.  I was in Maine visiting a friend and my jeans kept sliding under my rolls, so I needed a belt to keep them lodged between roll one and roll two (the same 18s that I can now take off without unbuttoning them).  I bought this belt in a bigger size because I wanted to be able to use one of the back holes.  Oh, the tricks we fatties employ to deceive ourselves. 

Over the last 3 years, I progressed to having to use the very first hole.  Embarrassed that the tip barely reached to the little tip holder.  Angry that I went from the back holes to the front ones.  Mad that I had eaten my way out of the Old Navy jeans I was wearing the day I bought them and right back into a sz 22.

So here I am and the belt doesn't even fit on the very last hole.  I know I need to buy a new one because my pants are sliding off, but I don't want to.  I am terrified of taking that step.  What if my band slips and I gain it all back?  I do have a weird stomach ache right now.  Much too low to be band related, but still.  The thought of not having Hedwig in there anymore just makes me so aware of how out of control I was before he made his way into my belly via my bellybutton. 

My therapist asks me all the time why I am scared to be thin.  I have given her many answers over the years, but I don't think I have really reached the root of it yet.  I guess the short answer is that it is the unknown.  I have never been thin.  I suspect I have been in the overweight-morbidly obese BMI range since I was 8 years old.  Being a healthy weight would be as strange to me as if someone suddenly turned me into a white male.  Ok.  Maybe that is a little drastic, but you know what I mean. Basically, being a fat person is so closely tied to how I think, that it is an essential part of who I am.  I need to relearn how to be me and that scares the shit out of me. 

Happy New Year!!!

I hope everyone had a great, safe night.  I went to a party and had a terrific time.  Lots of compliments and boob-touching.  The party was hosted by my friend Vinny and his partner Nick.  I don't know why gay boys like touching my boobs so much, but I wish I could get that much attention from straight boys.

My favorite guest at the party!!

Anyway, I over-indulged last night and I am paying for it today.  I am sooo tight.  Nothing is going down.  I think maybe I am dehydrated from the copious amounts of vodka, but I am not sure.  Any drinkers out there care to weigh in???

I have been sipping warm tea for the last hour trying to loosen things up because I am soooo hungry.  Nothing cures a hangover like a bunless, low-fat cheese burger (UM. NOT). 

I hope everyone had a great night and an even better 2011.  I started this year down 55 lbs in a size 16 jeans.  The year can only get better with such a wonderful start!!!  

Guess what? I have a lap band

I had surgery on 9/13/10, but I don't think I really got it until 11/29/10 when I went for my third and final for awhile fill.  I am not too tight as I first assumed.  It is just that I hit my sweet spot (I think)!  I have to eat sooo slowly and take the smallest bites. I know that is the whole premise of the band, but that is what I thought I was doing before.  Wow.  I totally didn't get it until I got semi-stuck for the first time. My weight loss has been steadily plodding along. That number up there?  The really big one?  THAT IS HOW MUCH I HAVE LOST!!!!!!!!!

I didn't want to come on here and just talk about how great I am doing and be all ME ME ME.  Then I remembered that it is my damn blog.  SO . . . I can't remember feeling this good in a long time.  I ROCK!!  Ok.  Back to humility.  I don't comment very often on other blogs because I read from work and I am not allowed to post/comment on things from there.  But, I am keeping up with everyone. 

I went out last night and put in some effort with the hair and make-up.  I felt great.  Then this morning when I was on facebook I found a picture of me from August that I hadn't seen.  Holy Mary Mother of God. 

This woman is not happy.

THAT is the real smile.

I still have a ways to go, but pictures like these remind me that I have come a long way already.  The biggest difference between August and last night is in how I feel physically and about myself.  That is what I see the most in these pics and I LOVE it.

Thanksgiving 2010

Let's see what was different this year:

• I ate a small dessert plate of food instead of two huge dinner plates
• I took the time to do my hair and make-up
• I went out and bought an outfit instead of wearing whatever fit and hid the most of my rolls
• I stood proud in pictures instead of hiding behind people in pictures
• I felt really damn good

This year was awesome.  I don't post as much now or check as many blogs and I don't know why that is, but I am so happy these days that I am not going to beat myself up over it.  I have been working out 6 days a week and I feel fan-fucking-tastic.  Behold:

Last year with my mom and sister

This year 41 lbs down!!!

Edited to add another pic because I felt so hot!  Also, my sister has lost over 20lbs on her own, so she deserves an updated pic also.

10% DOWN!!!

I made my 10%.  I feel like I should give myself a little charm Weight Watchers style.  I have some other NSVs to report as well:

• I am comfortably wearing an 18 from Old Navy.  
• I am 9.25 inches down off of my body total.  I should post my measurements soon!
• I made 60 cupcakes last weekend and only ate 1.  Didn't even have one at the party.
• My disaster-ex flared up again this week and I did NOT eat my pain.  

I have some restriction from the first fill.  Actually, I have a lot of restriction.  I am eating so much less and I am not hungry even if I have gone a while.  It was better last week and this week I am eating slightly more, but I think I am really close to the sweet spot. 

I have not been blogging a lot. The primary reason is that I have been going out again.  Seeing friends.  Working out after work.  Doing things other than coming home and feeling sorry for myself and hiding.  That is no excuse not to blog, but it feels good to be feeling kinda cute again. 


I am going to a party tonight and I plan on spending all day tomorrow catching up on blogs and commenting.  But tonight I am putting on those 18s and strutting my smaller stuff!!

Into the Mouth of the Beast

Off to help a friend make and ice 60 cupcakes for a party tomorrow.  Pray for me. (On a happier note, I retired my old pants. I can remove them without unbuttoning them.  I just bought a pair in a size smaller for said party tomorrow.  I will post pics!)

For better or worse . . . 1 month pictures

First of all, thanks to Jen for showing us all how to do this.  So easy! Jen's Picnik Tutorial

And then extra thanks to my wonderful sister-friends who helped with the photo shoot:  Rebecca, the fabulous photographer; Meghan, the apartment owner with the perfect black photo taking wall; and Catherine, the occasional chandelier holder. Rebecca even made me homemade meatballs because I am still on post-fill mushies. Having a support system during this process is so important and I have such a tremendous one.  Between my large family and all of my friends, I am so supported and loved.

Ok. Can't put it off with Academy Award thank you speeches any longer. 

The pictures. 

Wow.  Eww. Gross.  Don't post them.  Hide them.  Delete them.  These are all thoughts that went through my head upon seeing the collages when I was done.  WHY ISN'T THERE MORE OF A DIFFERENCE????  I can barely see a change and in some of them, I think the afters are slightly fatter than the befores.  How can that be????  I contemplated never posting these, but I promised myself that I would no matter how bad they are and how many months it takes for them to look good. 

I keep repeating "It's only been a month.  It's only been a month."  If I say it enough, maybe I won't jump off of the roof.  Besides no one and I mean NO ONE looks good in too small gym clothes. (Well maybe skinny girls.  But larger-boned girls should avoid this look.)

Without further ado . . .

Please tell me next time my shorts are riding up from chub rub!!

This is the only one where I can see a slight difference.

Can't wait until the back pics don't look like a 5-tiered wedding cake!

My First Fill!

I was dreading it.  Filled with fear.  I am not a huge fan of needles anyway.  Actually that is not true.  I don't mind needles that take stuff out. For instance, I often like to watch while blood is being drawn.  It is needles that put stuff in that I don't like.  Probably something I should have thought about pre-band.

So, I was a nervous wreck waiting for my first fill.  Finally they called me in.  I got on the scale.  Down .5 from the last time I weighed in there.  There was a time in my life when that would have made me leap out of the 10th story window.  But today I just shrugged.  I am eating too much.  I have a teeny bit of restriction, so I am eating less than I used to but way more than 1 cup.  I didn't expect to lose big and at least I didn't rebound from all liquids by gaining. Very Zen.

Then Frank came in to do my fill.  I told him about the weird pressure I feel in the back of my throat when I lie flat on my back.  He said that some people experience it and it is the feeling of the band.  Because of that and because I am eating so much less than before, he decided that I should not be really aggressive with the fill because he thinks I am sensitive to the band.  He decided to go with 3cc. 

I got on the table and he started pressing around for my port.  Then Gaspar came in.  So, my first fill was with both Frank and Gaspar which is terrific.  He located my port and told me to put my arms behind my head and do a crunch.  I did and then before I knew it the needle was in and I was watching the CCs disappear.  It took no more than 2 minutes.  Then it hit me.  Of course it doesn't hurt.  It's fat.  There are no nerves in fat.  The initial prick of the needle through the skin was not even noticeable and it just slid through my lovely insulation.

I am back on liquids for two days.  I'm kinda hungry though.  Ok.  I am really hungry.  I have another appt in 3 weeks, so we'll see.

OH!  I got a trainer today.  More on her later, but I think I love her.  She's so petite and strong and she didn't care that I hadn't shaved my legs in much longer than I care to admit.

To be free one must give up a little part of oneself

I think my band is a man.  My BFF pointed out the other night that a man is usually the inspiration and motivation when women lose weight.  Speaking strictly for myself that is 100% true.  I have always lost weight as a way to get back at a guy and show him what he is missing.  Or get a prom date.  Or impress him with my sleeker physique and make him love me.  Totally unhealthy.  I get that. Anyway, going with tradition, I think my band might be the one man that gets me to goal.  Not any man though. Like 75% of the men in my life, I think my man-band might be gay.  I hereby christen my band after the most fabulous lady-man I know:

Ladies and Gentleman . . . Hedwig!

Bandster Hell

I think I am there. This past week my hunger came back.  With a vengenance.  I feel like I can eat an entire side of beef.  Sadly old habits die pretty hard, so I have tried to do exactly that.  But luckily, my band has stepped in a time or two and told me that while the desire is there, my body has changed.

I got home from work the other night and wandered around looking at menus because I just didn't have the energy to cook.  I ended up gettting two slices of pizza.  One sicilian and one regular.  This was my old standard from Nino's the place across the street.  Often times, I would walk to the bakery to get a slice of red velvet cake while my pizza was being heated.  Then I would walk home thinking, "Is this going to be enough food?"

A quick aside and then back to the pizza story.  I feel like I spent so much time pre-meals worrying about whether or not I was going to have enough food to satisfy my deep hunger pit.  This would often lead to an order of dumplings on top of whatever combination plate I was getting from the Chinese place.  Or garlic knots in addition to the two slices of pizza.  Or mozzarella sticks when I ordered lasagna.  And always a trip to get a cake or cookie to satisfy that need for something sweet after.  Is it any wonder that I weighed 300 lbs!?!?!?!?!?!?  The problem with this strategy was that if the food was in front of me, I would eat it.  Even if I was so full I had to lie down, I would wait until that feeling passed and then finish off whatever was left. 

Ok, back to the other night.  I went upstairs and ate the sicilian slice.  Much too fast and not chewed well enough for sure.  That is going to kick me in the ass after my fill on wednesday.  So then I moved on to the other one and about halfway through I realized that I was eating because it was in my hand  and because I love cheese.  But my body was begging me to stop.  I was uncomfortable, but felt like I had to keep going.  I did the unthinkable and threw it in the bag and then dumped it in the trash. 

I ate a slice and half of pizza (probably could have stopped at 1) for dinner and was done.  Me!  The woman who used to put down 3 slices in one sitting and then nibble on a fourth later that night. 

My weight has been up and down the last couple of weeks as I struggle to keep my portions under control and start introducing real food again.  But I don't give a shit.  (Huge lie, but humor me.)  My point is that the band is doing what it is supposed to.  It is keeping me in check.  It is now up to me to try to listen when the band tells me to slow down. 

Private Panic / Public Fabulousness

So despite my last post, I have been putting on a pretty good game face.  While my plateau is a bit infuriating and causing my inner angst, there have been some good things this week too!

A little background:  I love make-up.  Buying it, wearing it, applying it.  I am good at it.  My gays in my local MAC used to love to see me come in because I bought a crapload of product every time and I would let them experiment with my face. The bolder and brighter the better.  No neutrals. So for me to not wear at least mascara for over a year is a sure sign of MAJOR DEPRESSION.  Part of that is work, part is weight gain, and part is the stormy relationship with the EX.

Work for me is a mixed bag of boredom, frustration, and resignation.  I wish I loved my job, but I really don't.  For the last year, that has been clear to everyone by the hair in a bun at the nape of my neck schoolmarm style and the completely make-up free face I present every morning. 


All of that changed on Monday when I went to work.  I did my hair and put on make-up.  I took care to find a good outfit and I felt great.  I have kept it up every day last week.

Except Thursday.  Thursday I woke up late and didn't do my hair or makeup.  No big deal right.  Well, Thursday night I was sitting on the subway when I looked up and saw this:

MR. BIG was sitting across from me with all of his old Hollywood movie star handsome hotness.  No one else seemed to notice.  I surreptitiously put on some lip gloss and tossed in a piece of gum just in case.  Needless to say, he didn't talk to me.  I mean 29lbs is a great start, but I have a ways to go before I can turn the head of a man who dates women who look like this:

So moral of the story: look your best at all times because you just never know.

Is There a Negligent Blogger Award?

I am one.  A shitty blog writer.  A shitty blog reader.  And a shitty blog supporter. I have no excuse really.  Something is going on with me and I don't want to seem like a whiny baby, so I have not been blogging about it.  I am struggling.  It is more psychological than anything. 

I live in constant fear that I am doing this wrong.  I can't tell if I am eating enough or eating too much because I am never really hungry.  I realize that this is not a problem, but a blessing that I would have given a limb for 3 months. ago.  I am not complaining about that. 

I think this all stems from the fact that the scale has stopped moving.  I have been batting around the same two pounds for a week and the week before I only lost about 2 lbs.  Normal weight loss, I know.  But a severe let down after such big losses.  Basically, I have painted myself into a corner by being so excited about the big losses.  Now that it has stopped, I keep freaking out and wondering if I broke the band. I have a pain in the geneal area where I think the port might be.  Is that it flipping?  I wake up with a weird feeling pressure in the back of my throat if I am lying flat?  Is that an esophogial spasm? 

I AM MAKING MYSELF INSANE WITH WORRY!!!!!

I have got to stop being so neurotic.  The first step to doing that is to give up lapbandtalk. com. Before my surgery, I read every thread every night before I went to bed.  It made me feel informed.  It made me feel closer to my goal of getting banded.  Now that I have gotten banded all I ever seem to read about on there is people failing and weird complications.  For my own sanity, I need to give it a rest and have my own experience. 

If I see one more thread about someone not losing any weight after months of having the band, when I am at a plateau I might cry.  I will go back someday because there are a lot of positive things to learn there, but right now it just feels way too doom and gloom for my present panic. 

I need to pick myself out of this private panic room.  I need a plan.  A plan is only an idea until it is documented.  (Project Management rears its ugly head.)  Here is my plan:

• Start tracking daily intake.  Not to feel like a diet, but just to feel like I have some control and knowledge over what my actual intake is.  I will not do this forever.  Part of getting a band was that I don't want to spend my life tracking calories.  But until I learn how to eat again, I need training wheels
• Force myself to drink more water. 
• Start blogging again.  Every day.  Even if I just type nonsense. Whenever I put off doing something, but think about it all the time, it is a sign to myself that I fear that thing.  In most cases, it is a fear of confronting something.  In this case, blogging makes me feel accountable.  If I ignore that I have not lost any weight and don't put it down for anyone--including myself--to read, I can continue to pretend that this whole band thing is a breeze.
• Give myself a fucking break.  It has been three weeks.  I have had three decades to completely warp my eating habits and body image.  CHILL OUT.  This isn't going to happen quickly and I am not going to automatically wake up from surgery and know how and when to eat.  
• Vacuum the cat hair off of the damn treadmill and use it every night.  I have a treadmill at home and membership to TWO gyms with locations all over NY.  I have not worked out in two months.  I can't swim yet, but I can damn well get on the treadmill IN MY OWN HOUSE and walk for 30 minutes.  

See.  I feel better already.  I love a plan.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho It's Off to Work I Go

Today was my first day back in the office after being off for two straight weeks.  (I thank the SEC for imposing that rule because otherwise I would never take that long off at one time.) It was weird being back.  The reactions of my co-workers who know was hilarious.  Elevator eyes from everyone.  Two "You look so healthy" and one "You look so happy."  Who knew people would be so awkward?  I was holding out for just one "You look like you've lost weight."  Never came.  Almost 30 lbs people!! C'mon! I crave external validation.  I really need to work on that.  (I also need to work on exclamation points.  I don't know when it started, but I can't seem to stop using them!)

I am 3 lbs away from reaching my 10% goal.  The scale hasn't moved in about 5 days, but I am determined not to freak out about it.  I'm making healthy choices and today I got off the subway a stop early again and walked home.  Not because the train was broken again, but because I know I need to kick start my working out.  For now, let's ignore the elephant in the living room.  That would be the treadmill next to the TV.  I'll get there. 

Love seeing all of the pictures from BOOBs.  It looks like so much fun. Can't wait for next year, but I am really happy to have my bloggers back.  POST LADIES.  Lots of stories and pics.