I wish I could quit you, Ben & Jerry

Sometimes the truth hurts. And sometimes it feels real good.-Rollins

2009-10-12T22:40:00.000-07:00

Here's what I hate about Facebook: my cute co-nerds from high school are all on there. I am apparently the only one who is still awkward and nerdy. Everyone else is suddenly blonder and much MUCH boobier than I remember. I have had to do several double takes, especially with my friend who used to be shy and mousey. Her profile photo is of her in a string bikini with a beer in her hand and a trucker hat. I won't even get into the trucker hat, I don't have that kind of time, but I will address the fact that I can't even tell it's her. She actually looks great. I had no idea that a human being could come so close to Barbie proportions and still be able to stand upright, so kudos. As I mentioned before our reunion is coming up this year and I am nowhere near being ready for it. Therapy and drugs have done wonders and I am slowly workin' my way on down the scale. But still. There is no way I am prepared to saunter into a room of spray tanned swizzle sticks. When I initially started I had this dream of being so skinny people would suspect I was a heroine addict..or a model for Karl Lagerfeld. Alas, sanity won out, especially when I thought about what sort of woman I want my daughter to see me as. Of course I'm not in any danger of getting dangerously thin, but I really just want to feel good. For me that means I can get back to doing an hour of cardio every day so I'm not winded running after the kid. The most important part is also the hardest. I want to learn to be proud of who I am without feeling that I need to factor my value with how much I weigh. When I was thinner I got a lot of attention from everyone. That was nice. But it wasn't about who I was-it was about how great my tits where or how bouncy my ass was. Now, I still have that same sparkling personality but nobody looks at me twice since I'm just another fat girl. Considering that society isn't about to change I need to learn to change the way I look at me. Not there yet but working on it. I want my little girl to grow up knowing that even if she's a curvy she can still rock it like her mama. The truth is that I will probably never get back into my high school jeans or even my sophomore in college jeans. However, the truth is also that I am beautiful and smart and determined and fun...and more than a little dorky. I am also fat. While I am working towards getting healthier I can't put my life on hold for my "after" body. I can still be all these great things regardless of what size jeans are holding all my wonderfulness in.

Horray For Medication

2009-08-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

No, I haven't given up losing weight, I'm still at it. Life got pretty hectic, but there have been some positive developtments. I read one of Bob Greene's books-well, no I read SOME of one of Bob Greene's books. I love reading in general, but reading self-help books is boring and I refuse endure longer than I have to. Anyhow, Bob made a great point in the part I read. He said that lasting weight loss will not likely happen till the weightlossee (me, in this case) deals with WHY she over eats/stress eats/whatever. This actually made sense to me. I do have stress issues and I do have a long buried memory of being bad touched by a neighbor so I thought it'd be good to get these things figured out anyways. I'm not an idiot, I KNOW what I should and shouldn't eat and I KNOW about portions but I just kept making the wrong choices for whatever reason. I started seeing a therapist and Doug, my doctor, put me on Wellbutrin. I have to say, it's nice not feeling so on edge all the time. It's easier to fight food temptation when I'm not all agro. So far I'm down eight pounds, this is without much exercise since I've been too busy to get to the gym, so I'm excited to see what happens when I go whole hog (no pun intended). I know I'm a looong way from the finish line and this is taking way longer and is much more complicated than I thought but I'm making progress. And maybe I'll be a little thinner AND more sane in the end. Naturally, I'll probably still be a dork, but I'm OK with that.

Yay!...Sort of

2009-06-08T20:24:00.000-07:00

I'm making progress! My stress eating is waaaay down, so anti-anxiety meds are great! However, I want to learn to deal with my stress better so I don't need to be on them. This is,however, is going to wait till after we move into our new house since, at the moment, drugs are my very good friend. I haven't weighed myself since it bums me out- even if I've lost weight I'm still waaay over where I need to be. Instead I'm going by how baggy my jeans are. BTW (See? I'm hip to the lingo) my jeans now require me to wear a belt. I'm going to eventually go back to numbers based weight monitoring but for now I'm not in a place to do so. Oh! I no longer have a trainer!!! I called and asked to postpone my sessions till after our move since I haven't had the time or energy to shower much less drag ass into the gym. Jake got very peeved and suggested I just cancel my membership. 1. I don't need a fussy trainer whose feelings I need to be careful of 2. WTF!?!?!. Anyhow, I've kept my membership at LA Fitness so I'm going to start back there, plus having a toddler is taking a LOT more energy. We're GO! from sunrise to sunset so I'm getting as much activity in as I can handle during the move. I could go on about what a douche my ex-trainer is, but I want to believe I've grown as a person and am above such things...I'll just say he's so dumb he made my car door look smart. OK, well I'll work on being mature later. Much, much later. Not much else to report really, am feeling pretty good. Oh, eating less meat in general. I love meat. A lot. Nothing is better than a nice filet with truffle butter. Mmmmm. However, these things are bad for my ass, plus since eating less meat I've found I generally feel better. No, I'm not turning vegan or even vegetarian, just something I've noticed. Feeling better is nice.

Where'd you learn that? Druuug school?

2009-05-15T14:07:00.000-07:00

OK. So I said I'd never take a pill to help lose weight and I was wrong. No it's not what you might think. When I saw my doctor I asked him about Alli. I kept hearing about it and thought, "hey, what the heck". So when I saw Doug (I call my doctor by his first name, because I want to) I asked him what he thought about me starting it. I thought he'd be proud that I was willing to get on such a progressive plan. Instead he just sighned and said "Please don't, it'll just give you diarrhea". I have to admit, I was a little bummed since I'd worked it up to be my silver bullet. He went on to say that no drug will do it for me. Instead we talked about my eating which seems to lie at the center of my problem. I love working out and will go, but I can't stop eating crap! We talked about stress and the fact that I eat most when I'm stressed. And I'm always stressed. I'm a worrier. So we decided the best course of action was to address the stress. So I'm an a low dose antianxiety medication. I have to say, I'm not a fan of pills in general but after a week I have found myself to be mellower. Best of all, I'm not sneaking food. I just don't feel like it. I do sort of feel like it's taken my 'edge' but I suppose that's not a bad thing. I got cut off in traffic yesterday and the thought of following that chick, ripping her out of her seat and cutting off her hair didn't even occur to me. Weird. I'm a little tired but hopefully that side effect will wear off soon. After a break from working out with Jake we're getting back on that horse on Tuesday. Will this finally be my weight loss trifecta? Let's hope so!

Bring In The Troops

2009-04-30T23:05:00.000-07:00

OK. I am not a superwoman. I've been working out--not lately since I have been sick with a cold. Or it's Swine Flu which would be humiliating-I refuse to die of of an illness that is hilariously ironic given the size of my ass. Despite working out I haven't been losing much weight, due mostly to my inability to stop eating like a high frat boy. So with the help of my doctor I'm turning to the Sharp Weight Managment group. I am NOT going under the knife. Just not going to do it. After having two surgeries (all baby related) I am not willing to go through that again. So my options are some sort of therapy to help me get to the bottom of why I have the will power of Cookie Monster, drugs, or something that sounds like more therapy. I'm going to an orientation in the next month and will report my findings. The thought of drugs isn't too appealing since I did hear some of the side effects-eww.
Making the choice to get help hasn't felt like the failure I was afraid it might. On the upside I am feeling stronger and less winded thanks to all the cardio I'm doing. So it's not all bad.

Fatty fatty bo batty

2009-03-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

I have surpised myself by going to the gym every day. I don't always stay for an hour, but I go. It's starting to feel really good. I'm a little ashamed of being the only one drenched in sweat at the end of my time, but hopefully that'll change as soon as I'm less fat. Aside from still being bored with my music choices, I'm also a little bored by what's playing on the TV. My choices are Fox and Friends or a local news station I'm not particularly fond of. I don't despise Fox news as much as my more liberal friends but I do find them slightly abrassive, sort of like sand in my shoes. The local staion isn't subtitled so I just imagine what they're staying "Fat girl falls of eliptical machine into vat of butter-film at 11!". I tried asking the management to change the lineup and was told that those were the breaks. I did fight the urge to shove the manager's clipboard up his ass--see? I'm getting nicer!! I think I'll start uploading episodes of Lost onto my ipod and catching up there, even though I've vowed to stop watching that show. It was a great show, I just feel that I'm in an bad relationship with it. I put so much into it, I care for it and defend it to my friends. Then Lost gives me nothing in return. Soon I start to wonder if there are other shows out there for me, but just when I'm about to move on Lost comes back and gives me a little something, it answers a question or shows me a link between characters. Ah ha! I think, Lost is changing! This could work! It never lasts though. OK, nevermind I just decided to stop the abuse. Maybe I'll watch episodes of American Idol and see what all the fuss is. Or not.
Diet is going fine. And by fine I mean I'm eating a lot of chicken. Also, while stuffing a pinata for my dad's birthday I stuffed an alarming number of Nerds into my pockets. I put them back later, but fished out a peanut butter cup. And a mini Twix. I am overall able to resist temptation but when confronted with twelve kinds of deliciousness I couldn't resist tasting the forbidden fruit. It's weird though, the better I try to be the more people around me seem to be pushing bad stuff at me. My husband finally got the messege and stopped bring home treats like flan, banana splits, etc. It was cute when I was pregnant and early in my little girl's life when we'd huddle together after she'd go to bed and share a quiet and yummy treat together before bed. He's much better about helping out through this. Now if only I could get my mom to stop.

This is how we do it, baby

2009-03-19T21:40:00.000-07:00

Getting back into the groove of this. Working out five days a week and am keeping a food journal. I decided to be honest since having my trainer know exactly what I'm doing wrong can only help me. Of course standing there while he read that I'd eaten Oso Buco ravioli, olive salad, filet mingon, and creme brulee (Thank heaven for the Wine Sellar, if you've never been, by all means go) all in one sitting was about the most shameful thing I've done in a looong time, with the exception of telling an old lady to go fuck herself-it was totally merited but it's a story for another time. Am overall trying to be better about my eating. If I do splurge I make sure it's just a tiny portion which is pretty difficult to manage but doable. Three days of my five day workout are just straight cardio at LA Fitness. I try to do at least thirty minutes which is sad in the face of my hour to hour and a half sessions I used to do when I was in better shape but it's a start. I'm not praying for it to end as much and have been finding myself (willingly) doing five more minutes. I do, however, need NEED new music to listen to. Here is a taste of my workout mix:
Wicked Game-Giant Drag
Bring It On! - HorrorPops
Date With The Night-Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Sabatoge- Beastie Boys
Hip Hop Star-Beyonce
Pon de Replay-Rihanna
Dance, Dance - Fallout Boy (Yes, I know they're douchy but good to hamster wheel to)
Maneater-Hall and Oats (Shut up)
Hot N Cold-Katy Perry
Electric Feel-Oracular Spectacular

I know, you're thinking, "Gee, these songs are awesome" and you're right but I have heard them a billion times and they now make me want to throw things into the spin room. Yea, there are more songs on rotation but they'd only confirm my bad taste in music..even further.
Oh! I have biceps!!! It's true, they're under there!!! I'm down only a couple pounds but am already seeing results. Once I've got enough info on my food diary I'll get an official food revamp and will hopefully see better results. Frankly I'm just thrilled to be able to run after my little girl without wheezing. Onward.

Back in the saddle again...

2009-03-11T13:00:00.000-07:00

So I'm back in the gym after a week and a half of being totally decked by a biblical illness. I went to my doctor expecting to be diagnosed with some scurvy-ebola hybrid but alas it was just a cold. First time back to Jake was terrible, despite his assurance that a little weakness is normal after being ill I still am disappointed in myself. I wasn't able to press as much as I had been and I was sweaty and dizzy after six (Yes! Six!!) minutes of cardio. Sad, sad. Jake was apparently brainwashed by kindly fat people because he took pity on me and sent me home. I was sick and determined not to barf in the gym in front of the nice older patrons. I made it to my car only to barf in the bushes nearby. Not a shining moment for me. The last time I barfed in bushes I'd had three vodka tonics , 2 beers, and a gin and I have to be honest, being sober does not make the experience better. Today my alarm went off at 4:30am. My body argued that it was technically 3:30am and that the time change doesn't mean anything but my brain won out and I dragged ass to the gym. Yay. I did only thirty mintues of cardio before I ran out of steam. I am kind of bitter-I was doing really well before I got sick. I guess I'll just shoot for that feeling again. Sure, the thought of just chucking it and sitting in a bathtub full of ice cream with a spoon has it's appeal but I know I just need to get over the hump and then it'll be easier. That is, of course, till i reach the next hill. Oye.

I suck, but that's OK

2009-02-25T12:33:00.000-08:00

OK, so I didn't wake up in time to go to the gym before the fam. needed feeding and love. No matter, going to strap the kid into her stroller and go on a nice long walk. It won't be as effective as running on the hamster wheel at the gym but at least it's something. Worked out yesterday with Jake and it suuucked. I guess it will for some time, I just wished my abs (or where I believe my abs to be-can't be sure since they're cocooned in their fat shell) didn't hurt every time I laughed. Or breathed. Legs don't hurt as much and while digging through my clothing I was able to fit into these jeans I'd gotten too fat for. Granted they're still a little snug but I'm back in them!!! Haven't been weighed since Jake says I'm only allowed to look once a month for now, but I am starting to feel better, if not look a little better. Oh! And I apparently am a profuse butt sweater. WTF?!? Every time I peel off my gym clothes I'm confronted by soaked underpants, and not the sexy soaked that I read about in the cheesy romance novels I hide under my bed, but soaked with sweat. When did this start happening? The list of reasons to lose weight keep adding up and not having a sweaty posterior is near the top. I cut out after dinner snacks, which is tough since that's prime time emotional eating time for me, and am starting on the road to eating better. I decided to step down with the logic that a cold turkey would just make me crazy and set me up to attack the bakery at Vons Cookie Monster style. I'm ashamed to admit that sounds pretty awesome right now but I'll go ahead and assume that would not go over well with the nice manager there. Jake's going to give me formal routine to follow at the gym when I'm not working out with him and has warned me that we're going to step everything up after next week. I guess I'm prepared, but a little worried. I've been assured that I won't die of a heart attack, but I'm worried about dying of out-of-shapedness or something.

Run, Blondie, Run! FYI the fat in your head will never go away.

2009-02-23T08:35:00.000-08:00

OK, just a post because I went to the gym. Yay, me. Feeling pretty good. Got myself up at the buttcrack of dawn. No, not because I'm totally motivated to get to the gym, but because the combination of my daughter coughing over the monitor and my husband's small motorboat snoring coaxed me from my slumber with the same subtlety that Lincoln was coaxed from the theater. So taking the opportunity to get going I go dig out whatever work out clothing I can find in the dark and throw it on. Hmm, snug. I had an apple, took my vitamins and, feeling all proud of myself, walked out the door in sweats that are too small because they're my husband's and a tshirt that shows way more of my boobage than I care to grace the world with (I have to remember to set out clothing the night before so this doesn't happen again). Since the sales guy LA Fitness said the gym was a ghost town before 6am I decide it's not the end of the world if one or two people see me like this. While my car is getting warm (this is a good time to mention I live three loong blocks from the gym. Could I walk? Sure. But it's dark. And cold. STOP JUDGING ME!) I make sure that I've got my lock, towel and water bottle. I got one of those word locks. It's awesome, I highly recommend. Even if I have a crappy workout, getting my stuff out of a locker is nicer because, really who wouldn't be made to smile if their combo was bootay. Anyhow, after getting to the gym I find that the parking lot is full. Not just full, it's overflowing. I have to park on the street and walk through the parking lot bummed because soon many people will soon see my badonkadonk and lady lumps in their full glory thanks to my husband's little sweats and my comfy, yet cleavage showcasing "Visualize Piece" tshirt. I decide that it's no secret that I'm generously endowed so I hold my head up and proceed determined to work out regardless of how pathetic I look. I put my stuff away (ha, ha Bootaaaaay!) and head upstairs to the cardio area where there is, thankfully, one elliptical machine open. I'm between two nice older gentlemen who smile at me and continue on their way. Nice. After about five minutes I'm breathing pretty hard and keeping up with the Yeah Yeah Yeah's 'Date with the Night' is getting pretty tough. I doubt five minutes is going to earn me any results so I plow ahead. Soon the little old guys leave and I'm suddenly flanked by two girls toned like greyhounds. Ugh. The one on my right nods and I nod back. She's brunette and perfect, like every other woman in this town. That's not true I guess, unless you go to the beach. Or the Gaslamp. Or Costco where even all the mom's look like runway models. The one on my left, the blonde, is running like someone is chasing her with a torch. I kind of look at her from the corner of my eye and note that she has zero body fat. Where is she running to? Hmm, profound. Maybe she's running away from something. Oooooo. Maybe someone made her feel so bad about herself she is running and running and getting skinnier and skinnier without realizing she already had the perfect body. Her weight is the only thing she can control so she's killing herself trying to make some past mistake right. Now she's just a skeleton being held together with skin, seriously, I can see her hipbones jutting out. I wonder if she can set a drink on those things. Probably not because she only drinks self-loathing. Hmm. I sort of start feeling sorry for her in between watching the news and trying to find songs I don't hate on my ipod. Yay! I find the last episode of Lost and proceed to catch up with all my little shipwrecked friends. Suddenly, I aware of a searing pain on the left side of my face. It burns. Am I having a stroke? I turn to see the blonde pumping away at the elliptical while looking at me like I just force fed her ding-dongs. Hostility! I'm not unfamiliar with this since I admit to being sort of an asshole but usually I've done something to deserve it. I put my game face on and give her my best "Whachu lookin' at loca?" and she turns away disgusted with me. Has my fatness offended her? Well, damn if I'm going to let this tiny little bitch make me feel bad about myself. I keep going determined to outlast her concave ass. Thirty minutes later she throws me one last dagger and hops off her machine. Oh my god, thank you Jesus! I was getting so tired my knees were giving out every other rotation. I hop off, actually it's more of a graceful fall, and mop the puddles of sweat from between my boobies. I sort of get it, I'm not skinny and that makes her sad and angry, probably in the same way that John Mayer's douchieness makes me sad and angry. I think the old me would have used this as an excuse to not go anymore but I can't fall into that trap. I have to stop letting people have this sort of effect on me, isn't that the whole point of a gym? I improve? Ugh. OK, meeting with my trainer tomorrow morning, will go on with my bad self. Now if only I could stop thinking about all the yummy things I could eat because I worked off 350 calories...hmm.

Cue the Rocky Soundtrack

2009-02-22T20:49:00.000-08:00

Here are the fa(c)ts:

1. I need to get off my ass and get to they gym more often.

2. I need to eat better/less.

3. A diet coke does NOT cancel out a bacon cheeseburger and fries.

4. I do not want to die of fatness.

5. My husband and, as a result, my daughter would wither away and die if I weren't here to pat them, feed them, and clean up after them.

6. I don't want husband and kid to expire.

7. Delaying getting my fat ship out of Port Lazyton and on it's way to Fitfordshire will only prolong the icky feeling I have and deepen my despair thus leading to the sort of depressed sadness only understood by black clad goth high school kids forced outside for P.E. on a beautiful San Diego afternoon.

8. Depression mentioned above will only lead to more emotional eating. See #3.

So, if I don't get my shit together I'm going to get fatter. It's just a fact. I am an emotional eater if there ever was one. I guess I've been bummed because I have a reunion coming up. And, based on what I've seen from Facebook (God, help me I can't stop Facebooking) everyone in my class looks fantastic except for me. I have exactly seven months to get less fatty (and somehow get a PhD in something awesome and invent a time machine or something equally impressive). Tomorrow is Monday. Tomorrow we fight!!!

Friggin' Frick Frack

2009-02-21T16:45:00.000-08:00

Pissed! No, that's not relevant to this blog but since nobody is reading this, then who cares. Besides my twice a week personal training I've been to the gym exactly once. To sign up. Where is all my rah! rah! motivation? Perhaps it's in bed where I wish I was. How do people do this? Angelina Jolie gave birth to twins and recently and now looks like a swizzle stick. Bitch. While I don't have the luxury of unlimited time to work out, a personal chef, nutritionist, cosmetic procedures, and air brushing I do have the basics in order to make a go of this and the goal of not dying before my kid grows up. That in itself should motivate me to get up and go to the gym. Fuck, it should motivate me to get my Masters and solve the issue of cold fusion. But then the kid is up a hundred times a night and I automatically get up and stay up. Then I'm too pooped to go. OK, typing that out makes me see how lame an excuse that is. I'm not going to therapy so I'm not sure why I'm getting in my own way, but there it is. Maybe it's because I haven't seen much of a return on my small efforts. I've drop half a pound. Considering I haven't really changed the way I eat that's not a super shocker. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

Disaster

2009-02-19T08:43:00.000-08:00

So I went to visit my doctor this week. I went a little late, I guess I should have gone before I started working out. There I was weighed. Ouch. Part of me doesn't want to admit the number here because it is large and offensive, but since is about the truth and the whole truth I'll do it. 230. That number is astounding to me. Part of me knew this because I kept getting weighed since the baby and it's been consistently creeping upward. But still. Not only do I have waaaay more work to do than I thought, I'm beginning to think that I might not reach my goal weight this year. Or maybe ever. This makes me quite sad. On the upside my doctor assured me that I will not fall over dead of a heart attack which is good since I imagined myself spilling off the treadmill and dying legs up housefly style. My trainer is unfazed and reasserted his suggestion that I do cardio three days a week in addition to the two days I see him. So, being the proative girl I am, I went to LA Fitness and got a membership. Nothing against LA Fitness but I felt like I was being sold a car and came away feeling sort of dirty. Despite telling them over and over than I already had a trainer and just wanted to use them for their cardio machines they attempted to sell me every sort of service they had. Kinda gross. But regardless I'll go use their machines and pool (once I can stand to have anyone see me in a bathing suit). Training with Jake is still tough, but I'm starting to feel better. I just had one day where I had a hard time getting out of bed due to the intense pain in my legs, arms, back, neck, back, and boobs-I don't recalling doing boob lifts but whatever. This fun little foray into getting in shape is turning into a full time job. More to come, Jake is going to evaluate my diet. I'm going to assume my days of eating Toaster Strudel are over.....

I think I hurt my pancreas

2009-02-04T21:20:00.000-08:00

The one thing I can take away from my first session is the overwhelming knowledge that I have a lot of work to do. My new trainer, let's call him Jake, is a very bad man. His idea of easing me back into working out was to make me throw up in my mouth while doing lunges. Despite this I think Jake is exactly what I need, tough and immune to my sparkling personality. I had a trainer two years ago, back when I attempted to do this sorta kinda, and he was awesome. Mitch and I talked movies, relationships, food...he was a great girlfriend. I think my downfall was that our friendship made forcing me to do fifty pushups impossible for Mitch. So here I am with a trainer who not only told me I have a lot of work to do, but intends to hold me to every one of the goals I've set for myself. They are as follows:

1. Get back to my high school weight-150. Before you get all judgey on me, let me explain. No, I wasn't pencil thin. However, I was healthy. I was a lifeguard, played on the basketball team, and was captain of the softball team, AND did aerobics in the off-seasons. I will never be a Nicole Ritchie-even if it was possible I'd rather slide down a banister of razor blades than look like a reanimated corpse.

2. Lose my bat wing arms. These are my greatest shame and I will not speak of them after this.

3. Participate in the Fall Mud Run. This last goal scares me. Since I heard of it, I've wanted to participate in the Mud Run. It's a 5K long run through mud and obstacles set by the Marines at Camp Pendleton. Why? Because it looks like fun.

I literally have no more excuses. Frick!!!

Progress!!!

2009-02-03T15:24:00.000-08:00

So. I start seeing a personal trainer tomorrow. Scared. I keep thinking how exciting it is to start down the road to fitness. Then I think about how much I heart things breaded and fried. I guess I have to give that up. Let's see how it goes. I'm going to be weighed and measured. Fun!

Fat is as fat does

2009-01-24T19:06:00.000-08:00

I'm at the supermarket buying baby formula. I am also buying an impressive amount of Pepperidge Farm products and ice cream. I'm not thinking about my sweet adorable baby at home, I'm thinking it'd be rad to crush those mint cookies and sprinkle them over Rocky Road. Brilliant! Having forgotten the shaving cream my husband requested I wheel back over to the hair stuff and search for Marco's brand. I'm standing there when a kid sporting an unfortunate white boy fro' enters the aisle and looks around. His friend in the next aisle shouts over to him, "Is he there?" I assume they're looking for their dad and before I can offer to help Q-Tip screams, "No! Just a fat lady". Ha! I turn around to see this sad fat lady Q-Tip is referring to. Hmm, looks like it's just him and me, which means....."Hey!!!!". Don't get me wrong, I know I've packed on some weight since college. I packed on some more during my four attempts at having a baby. More was piled on during each miscarriage and the depression that followed. I packed on even more once I finally had the aforementioned baby. So here I am. A fat lady. I guess I kept putting off losing weight because I figured I'm young and spry and have all the time in the world to get back to my fighting weight. Now, with my 33rd birthday behind me I see (thanks to two little jerks) that it's time to get serious. I want to see my little girl grow up. More importantly I want to fit into those awesome leather pants waiting for me in the back of the closet. Nevermind that leather pants are as hip as gauchos but you never know when the fashion tide will turn. When it does I'll be there. In leather pants.