Thursday, September 23, 2010
Ah Snap.
And not because of the band.
Heaven help Chicago.
Here we come.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Forever Fat. At Least On The Inside
In the name of full disclosure and honesty...which has always been one of my goals with this blog (along with trying to get you to laugh and spit things on your computer screen)...I am going to relay the following stories for you. I am not looking for compliments, or seeking validation. I just know that some of you can relate. And that's what you are here for. So here are a couple of separate events that form into one thought.
The other night we went out to a bar on the beach. I was wearing jeans, a tshirt, and flip flops. We walked in, and within 5 minutes, a lady walked up to me and touched my arm. She said, "I know you don't know me, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met."
I hugged her of course, told her thank you, offered to be her new best friend, and secretly wondered just how drunk was she.
And it made me feel good. But...I just don't see it. Shrinking Mommy is going to yell at me for looking in the mirror, but when I look in the mirror...most of the times I see a girl with a bad complexion, straw hair, leather skin, bat wings, and bad feet. Yes. Sometimes I am cute. I have a big smile and usually look like a pretty happy girl. People like that. And admittedly, sometimes I feel hot and sassy. But...it just depends.
But that isn't the only compliment I have gotten that takes me aback. I have had several people ask me if I am a body builder. A new hire at work the other day was sitting in Orientation and I heard her whispering to another employee..."Wow...she must workout. I am going to ask her what she does".
I don't feel like when you look at me you can tell I work out.
I went into the shop I have my pants tailored at, and this man was standing at the counter and he was talking about how he was getting ready to have the lapband. I said "I've had the lapband"! And the man behind the counter came out, looked at my ass and said "You don't look like you've ever been fat. Even your tookus is nice". hahah...
But I do feel like you can tell that I was once fat. And not that there is anything wrong with that. But I don't feel like I look fit or "normal".
Yesterday as I was leaving work in my car, a large group of our male clients were walking across the road so I had to wait. As they passed my car, many of them stared. You know what my first thought was? That someone had drew a dirty figure in the dust on my hood. Like...a dust penis? And that's what they were staring at. Then I realized...they were looking at me.
And that brings me to the Biggest Loser. I am thinking that maybe I can't watch it anymore. I get so annoyed with it's message and with the false claims and hope that it spews. It makes it seem like all it takes to lose weight is working out and dieting. And that if you WANT it bad enough, and work hard enough...if you are DISCIPLINED enough and have enough WILLPOWER...then you can lose weight. And keep it off. It's that simple.
But it's not that simple. It's the rare person that it works for.
Heather is one of those rare ones. She is not one of those people that can eat whatever and never gain weight. She has worked very hard, for a very long time...to maintain her physique. It's not easy for her...yet she has done it (and might I say very well). So for her, it's hard to understand why people just can't do it too. And it's hard for me to put into words why we can't. I believe it is more than willpower and want. I think for some of us, its chemical, mental, emotional, genetic, environment...so many factors.
And for me I know...without a doubt...I would have never have lost this much weight and for sure...I would not have been able to keep it off...without the band.
Because I will tell you what. There are many times that I want to just go to McDonalds and order whatever I want and eat until I am sick. But I can't. Thanks to the band.
It's funny to me, because even at my biggest, people would say things about fat people while I was in their company...as if I wasn't fat. And to their credit, I think they forgot I was fat. But I can't tell you how many times I heard "I don't know why they just don't push away from the table"...or something along those lines. I wanted to say "YOO HOOOOO! I am here! I am one of those people".
And so last night when Heather said something about discipline, I wanted to say "Hey! I am that fat person. I am the person who "lacked discipline" and had to get weight loss surgery." But she doesn't see me as that unhealthy fat person. She sees me as beautiful and strong. But on the inside I am still the fat girl.
So who am I? Because I still feel weak on the inside. But I am not the same. It's the strangest place to be...in this limbo.
I told her that it's hard to live in a house with 3 other women, all thin. I am heavier than them by 40-60 pounds. I eat less and workout a lot...but I am still fat compared to them. And they didn't need surgery to be thin!
Oh what a dangerous place this land of comparison! I know it's not good.
So I will end on what I do know.
I know that I may not weigh 120 pounds. But I weigh 168.5. And that's a lot less than 19 months ago.
I know that I am happier and healthier than ever before. I workout. I am strong. My body does things for me that I didn't ever believe it could.
I know that I needed help. And it's okay. Because the lapband changed my life...in more ways than I could have ever imagined or hoped for.
I know that I am free. Perhaps not free of all my demons (the chubby ones who like cheetos and chocolate)...but I am free.
I know that I comparing myself with others usually does no good. And that I should focus on comparing myself with....MYSELF.
Amen.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Boobie Questions
I asked Gilly to come up with a few fun interview questions and she delivered. If you are up for a good time (and I know most of us are!) copy and post this to your blog!
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Hi all the boobie girls! Someone much more organized than I am thought it would be fun to know more about you, and she enlisted me to think of some crazy questions…so…this is sort of a Gillyified version of Drazil’s BYOC. Knock yourselves out.
1) You’re trapped on a desert island and you can bring only 3 of your favourite foods along. What do you bring?
First, I can't read Canadian...so my FAVORITE foods I would bring are:
Pizza (supreme), cheese cubes, and oreos. Unless we can't bring drinks...and my drink would have to count as a food choice, and if that is the case we can lose the cheese cubes and substitute Diet Sunkist. And...could we be more specific? Like...is this a lifetime supply? Or do we just get to bring it and then it's gone. Because maybe I should bring twinkies, bc they last forever. And will there be a fridge? A cooler with ice? Damn you Gilly. Damn you.
2) If you could meet any 3 people, living or dead, who would they be and why?
Eleanor Roosevelt, the Dalai Lama, Jennifer Nettles (sugarland). I would like to me the EL bc I think she wasa very strong woman, possibly a lesbian, and possibly wise. The Dalai Lama because just thinking about him makes me feel peaceful. And Jennifer Nettles bc...well...she's a runner up as my soul mate. And I need to make sure she knows.
3) What is your stripper name? (take the name of your first pet and the name of the street you grew up on)
Pebbles Knoll.
4) How old were you when you lost your virginity? Alternative question if you don’t want to answer this: What is your LEAST favourite part of your bod since losing weight? Your MOST favourite since losing weight?
Can I answer all of them?
14. My inner thighs. My biceps.
5) Do you believe in ghosts or evil spirits? Would you be willing to spend a night alone in a house that is supposedly haunted?
Yes and yes.
6) What is your natural hair colour? If you dye it something completely different from what your momma gave ya, how come?
Brown. It's kinda boring and I like a little highlighting to match my tan :)
7) Boxers or briefs? Alternatively…bikinis or granny panties?
Hipsters and thongs baby. Hipsters and thongs.
8) If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, what would it be and why? (Trilogies do not count as one movie, cheaterpantses!)
Angie and I are long lost sisters...this I already knew. Dirty Dancing.
9) What is your guilty pleasure (feel free to go straight to the gutter with this one if the spirit moves you!)
Of course mine went to sex related answers. But, I will be a lady. And then is it wrong that it went to food next?
10) How many pounds gone forever are you celebrating?? :) 159
Coming To You From Deep Inside A Belly Button
One of the funnest (I KNOW that's not a real word) thing about having a girlfriend who is muscle and heart, is that we can have the best conversations about fat related body parts. For example, the other day I was laying on the bed and she was messing with my belly button and said something along the lines of:
"You probably have lint down there...it's kinda deep".
I laughed and told her that she should have seen the damn thing before! Right? Are you with me? Do you know how deep my belly button was at 327 pounds? It was an abyss. You could have boarded a cute little submarine and never made it to the bottom. Anywhooo...she didn't quite understand how the fatter you are, the more tissue around your bellybutton, and thus...the deeper it is?
Have I ever told you the stretch mark story? Probably. But one day at the beach I was wearing my bikini and again..on my back (hmm...sounds like a pattern), and she was running her fingers over my stretch marks. Now, I have been clear that my stretch marks are shameful to me. I can't even say that they are from having children...which would at least be honorable. But, I didnt feel like she was judging me or them...she was fascinated. And she asked me about them...how and when and why. Crazy to think that something that has always haunted me since puberty, has never been an issue for others.
So anyways. Back to my bellybutton. Just wanted to share and wonder if yours has gotten a little less deep.
It's the little things yes?
Okay. Now.
I was wondering today about the hotel room in Chicago...and whether the minibar would be stocked with Diet Sunkist.
Also, I fly in at 1130ish on Friday to Midway. At that point, I am going to try and find my way via the "el" to the damn hotel. If you havent heard from me or seen my by...oh...6pm...someone send a search party.
Also. Are we taking naked pictures?
Just kidding. BUT...I plan on taking LOADS of pictures. So prepare yourselves. And I expect some toepointing!
Oh, one more thing. I fly back to Pensacola early Sunday. I get back here around 1030 AM! And then I go straight to Orlando for a conference! But after the conference, Heather and I are going to Univerals Island Adventure...for rollercoaster rides! I don't think I have been on a rollercoaster, or been able to fit into one without the fear of fitting, in over a decade.
Big things are happening my lovelies!
Big things on a smaller scale!
hahahahah
Monday, September 20, 2010
A Vlog Where I Look Like A Complete Lunatic
I Suppose We Should Chat
For those of us going to Chicago (and for those of you who AREN'T going...MAN...you've gotta be getting sick of us)...
I think it's fair to say that a majority of us have lost our precious little minds. We are stressing ourselves out! And do you know why? Because we are WOMEN.
And DAMN....we are so silly!
Here is a conversation I had with myself today:
Self: "Crap. What in Carrie Bradshaws name am I going to wear on Saturday for a day of shopping and relaxing? What shoes am I going to wear? Will I be able to breathe in my dress on Saturday night? What pajama's are going to make my boobs look good? Do I need to wear matching bra and panties in case we take our clothes off at a club? What should I travel in?
blah blah basdlfkjsdlfkjasdl;fjsdl;fkj sdklfj craptastic balkjdldkjf dlsjkf
And then:
Self: "Uh...CHECK YO SELF BEFORE YOU WRECK YOURSELF BIATCH! These people have seen you (on your own damn blog), in your underwear, bent over, showing your bellyskin. They have seen your power panties on a vlog. They have heard you talk about poop, vagina's, buttcrack hair. They have seen your before picture.
They know you jackass."
So, I guess what I am trying to say is...
It will be okay. It will be okay if you can't find a dress, or if your shoes don't match. It will be okay if you can't find that perfect outfit, or if your luggage is crap (me...mee...ooooh...meeee!). It will be okay if you can't walk to dinner bc the heels you did manage to find are more "bedroom shoes" then dinner shoes...because some of you have volunteered to carry the rest of us who are wearing the stupid shoes. Someone DID volunteer right?
And I have to remind myself that it will be okay if I am not as entertaining, smart, charming, witty, and stunning (and humble) as I come off on my blog. OOOH, wouldn't it be funny if it was like a Scooby Doo episode and someone rips face off and exposes me as Mr. Gruff the school janitor?
Sigh.
True Story.
Now that I have said all that I feel so much better.
Excuse me though...I have to go and stand in front of my closet and cry.
I mean really...WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Dear Oprah: It's Your Move
Dearest Oprah,
The time has come to address a certain issue that I am sure that you are aware of, on some deep, DEEP, buried level.
The issue is, we haven't met. You are doing your last season. And I am coming to Chicago. I realize that this is short notice, and I do apologize for that, but your staffers work quick and I know they love a challenge. So let's just do it. Let's meet. On your show. I am pretty sure we will need an entire hour devoted to us. I do acknowledge that hour long segments are usually reserved for the upper eschelon of superstars such as Celine, Barbara, and Tom. But, need I remind you (and I am sure I don't since you remember things), that they once were young struggling artists...
And they needed a platform.
A couch if you will...
And you Dear Oprah...are my couch.
For years, I wanted to come on your show and talk to young girls about loving themselves at any size. I wanted to tell those 14 year olds you sometimes have on, the ones crying about bullies and being lonely, that there is another way to live...even as a fatty. But now, since I had lapband surgery, I might have lost some of my street cred. But I would still try. Because I have been there. And I lived there for a very long time.
So now, might you ask...what would I talk about if I were a guest on your show? OH OPRAH! The topics are limitless. We could talk fashion (I still like the big girl angle, and let's be honest...skinny jeans just don't work on all of us, and it's okay to tell people that). We could do makeovers! Those are always fun! NATE could come and decorate my house. Problem is, I don't really have a house, I live IN my girlfriends house that she owns with her ex girlfriend who we also live with!
OOOH...that could be something right? Does weight loss surgery breed gaydom? No...? Too Jerry Springer? Too last year?
We could talk about blogging. Now there is an idea! There sure are a lot of us out here. And we are pretty smart....and hot. And the audience always loves smart and hot people.
Anywhoozle, you decide. Whatever you would like me to do, I am pretty sure I can arrange it.
So there you have it. The ball is in your court. I can see us now...roadtripping across America with Gail singing her silly songs (she can still be your bestie too), stopping at fairs and eating fried butter (again...we will make Gail do that bc she is a trooper and fried butter sounds gross), and relaxing on your ranch reading Book Club books...and drinking fresh squeezed lemonade (courtesy of Stedman. Thanks STED).
Can't wait to meet you Oprah!
It's gonna be spectacular!
Sincerely, your future bestie,
Amy
Oh. I am blowing up blogger dashboard today.
Onward.
Let's talk about some things. A mish-mash of musings. A menagerie of mindless mumblings. A percocet of perky thoughts (no...that one doesn't work does it?)
Chicago
I cannot believe that very soon I will be meeting so many of you. You should know that I have not planned a damn thing. I am just going to show up and hope that you will let me hang out with you. I think time is going to fly by so quickly, and I just want to enjoy the ride. I need to spend some time over the next week getting my mind focused on our two day adventure. What to pack, how to pack, when is my flight, how shall I find the hotel...when will Oprah take me to lunch...
SO MANY DETAILS!
Maintenance Land
Today I weighed in at 169. That made me giggle a little because if you take away the 1, you have 69. And I am a 12 year old. But anywhoozle, I am maintaining my goal weight with relative ease. I haven't been dieting, I have been working out. I have been drinking a little. I have been eating some crappy food. I havent been at the top of my game...yet I am still holding pretty steady.
I guess what this means is I know what it will take to stay around this weight. I also know that if I were to make some better choices, I could probably lose a little more. I have been thinking about it. I briefly entertained the idea of doing a two week weight loss blitz just to see what I could lose before Chicago...
But I am going to tell ya something. I don't really wanna. I am enjoying being where I am right now.
Oprah
Oh...I will save this for a separate post I think.
More Pictures
This weekend my parents brought the ski boat down to Pensacola. We headed down the intercoastal to Destin, Florida. I skii'd a little on the way. I know I have said it before, but skiing makes me so happy. I feel free and fit and young. I feel like my body is working with me. I feel alive. I think I will retire earlier and then become a professional skier and blogger. Yes? Okay...maybe not.
Here is my dad (Big Al), my mom Marge, my sister Tracey, and me! This is my bargain bikini from Target. It is the first triangle top I have ever been able to own or wear. And even though I don't like my tummy in a bikini...my girlfriend thought I was sexy...and that's good enough for me.
Here is Heather hard at work cleaning the boat. She was sucking up to my dad...and boy did it work. I am pretty sure if there was a will, I would be out, and she would be in.
It was another great day. I just wish a little bottlenose porpoise would have swam up to us so we could have grabbed it's fins and went on a ride. Oh well...maybe next time.
31 and still stupid
And here is the lovely Lisa and moi...on our way to the restroom together.
This is later in the evening and these are some of the people that I love, like, work with, and so forth.
And here they are lifting me. I am a tad uncomfy bc I was waiting for their backs to break.
Bad Amy. Spankins' Required.
Complete with Toe Pointing. Rachel gave me her Victoria Secret Sweat Pants as a birthday gift. They are a size medium...and I am madly in love with them. I also pee peed a little in them later and had to do a wardrobe change. I was laughing too hard. Tequila in becomes tequila out at some point!
There was a night of kareoking on top of the boat.
This was one brief moment when I was allowed to leave the karaoke station. Somehow I am always put in charge of MCing such events. I will say there is something special about a bunch of middle aged boaters who are three sheets to the wind. There was this very wise woman on the boat, with 20/20 vision and extremely good taste, that told me I should be a model. She then told Heather she should make money off me. I believe what she said was "Get her in the gym and start making money off her". I am not sure if I should have been insulted at that point, but I was still high from the model comment.
Then there was more modeling and toe pointing.
This time we got my mom in on the action.
We took the little boat to the bat cave one night. Everyone goes down river and parks there boat right next to this bluff where, when the sun goes down, hundreds of bats fly out all around you.
My brother and I on the way back.
Here is one of my favorite pictures. Earlier in the day Rachel decided she wanted to learn to ski on one. She was going to get up on two ski's and then "drop" one. You pull your foot out, nice and slow and let one ski go and then you are skiing on one. Well, Rachel...bless her heart...wasnt slow or graceful...and somehow, while being pulled on two ski's, managed to walk right out of both of them at once...and for one long moment...I swear...the poor girl was walking on water...screaming. And this is our impression of what she looked like.
Me and my dad.
And I will leave you with one last picture. This was on our way to the bat cave. I like to entitle this photo as "When we tried to make Rachel a Lesbian". We will call her Trucker Tina from now on...
It was an awesome weekend. We were super tired for about 7 days afterwards. That's the way a good vacation should leave you. A little bruised, a little sore, and with a little headache.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Well Lookie Who Got A Present
My favorite part? The little mermaid of course!
Thank you Jenny!
Tuck It In Baby
I tucked my shirt into my pants.
I am pretty sure that I haven't tucked a shirt into anything in...oh...I don't know...decades? Well, it's tucked my friends. And I liked it.