I Like My Ass

In spandex.

Yes.  I said it.

Who would have though.  NOW, it is important to note that I believe there must be "high quality" spandex and "low quality", and it should be noted that I may not like my ass in the low quality, but these UnderArmour compression capri's, which I will call my "running capris" regardless of whether I run in them or not...

make me feel SASSY!  You can find them here if you want to read about them. I mean who doesn't want to read about them?

Anyways, I really never thought the day would come when I wore spandex.  Not at home.  Not in public.  Certainly not to run or work out.  Because mama has hella cellulite on the thighs and assticles.  And you can see a few of these precious dimples in these pants, but not a lot.  I am sorry the picture is poor quality.  I will take a better one.  And Operation Booty pop looks the most pronounced in these pants.  Its like I almost have a bubble butt!

So my point is...well I don't really have one...as usual.

BUT, I have been afraid to try these on and finally summon the courage.  I am glad it turned out in my favor.

I do have a question for those of you who already own such workout pants.  Mine fall down when I run.  They only way I can prevent it is if I pull the bottom of the legs up into my knee crook.  Too big?  Too small?  Too much jiggle?

I used to have Gun-gas

I know I blog a lot about my little itty bitty titties.  I know.  I KNOW.  I will be honest with you that it has become my obsession.  Not so much the size, although I am often amazed at how tiny they are these days, but I am ashamed of how much they sag.  I call them my little aborigine titties.  Which I am sure is politically incorrect, but they are very National Geographic.  And Heather says she loves the little guys (and who wouldn't because you can move them just about anywhere).  But...it's about time to get a plastic surgery consult for a lift.  I dont care or need them to be bigger.  I just want them away from my belly button.

When I wear certain sports bras, they are almost none existant.

Exhibit A:

I would like to share with you my new shirt courtesy of Heather. 

I love it.  I am wearing it to Zumba in just few minutes.  If you look close enough, you can actually see my port baby.  Its that thing sticking out from below the swoosh.

It's my one ab.

Happy Tuesday!



Things That Make Me Want to Poop

Heather plays softball (insert: cliche Lesbian joke).  And she is really hot when she does it.  It's co-ed rec softball.  She even wears these little compression shorts under her regular shorts...and they are just like Spanx.  SPORTS SPANX!

Who would have known they make sports spanx?  Well, I assume some of YOU who are sporty...but not this girl.

Anyways, I digress.  So the other night when Heather was playing ball, they had told her they may need me to fill in....

as in...

I may need to PLAY SOFTBALL.

I immediately started to get diarrhea. 

You see, I played softball when I was in elementary school.  My dad was always the coach. And I don't necessarily remember being terrible, I do remember getting in trouble for playing in the dirt whenever I got stuck in outfield and I remember him yelling "JUST KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL" when I was trying to bat.  Which is the stupidest thing someone can tell you because I DO keep my eye on the ball, the entire time it is whizzing by me.

In fact, I used to work with children who had behavior disorders (for about seven years in a school setting), and I often organized recess activities.  And so I took these k-5th graders out to play softball one day.  Now some of these kids had motor skill issues...mmmkkkay?  And they managed to hit the ball just fine.  But when Miss Amy (that would be me) got up to swing...missed.  Every.Single.Time

They laughed.

I cried a little on the inside.

I havent attempted batting since.

You see, I swing like a champ.  And heaven help my competitors if I ever actually made contact.  But now I have psyched myself out...permanently...

What if I shame Heather?  What if they revoke my girl lover card?  I am still waiting for my official Lesbian Card to arrive in the mail.  What if they catch wind I can't play?

Makes me want to poop.

Anyways, I in fact did not have to play that night.  Wooo, but the season is young.  So I told Heather we need to get me to the batting cages ASAP so I can get over this mental block.

BUT, there is some good news.  Yesterday a new employee came into my office and asked...get this...

"Did you ever play softball?  You look like a softball player?"

bahahahahaha....so there is hope! 

A Lap-band App!

I just got an email from Allergan letting me know there is now a Lapband app!  Huh.  Who would have thought.  You can click here to read more about it or watch a video.  I am going to download is ASAP and have a whack at it.

Peek-A-Boo!

Well it has been a hot minute since I have checked in my friends!  I realized I haven't said nairy a word since BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY (which was September 8th if you want to put it in your calendar for next year).  I turned 20-12.  It was very low key.  Last year we went out and got drunk and ended up having a little tift if you will, a little alcohol induced argument, so this year I wanted a nice romantic dinner with my girlfriend, starring me.  We went to one of my favorite restaurants on the beach, where my only stipulation was that I could order whatever I wanted to eat and she couldn't give me ANY "oh I can't believe you are about it eat that" glances.  I had an appetizer of onion straws, a main course of steak marsala (about 10 ounces which I ate all of it) and a brownie and ice cream for dessert.  I will tell you my restriction is pretty loose (see the 10 ounce steak statement) and I was actually FULL.  Like, real human being without a band, food in my lower stomach full.  I havent felt that way really, since getting banded.  I remember now how horrible that feeling is.  But it was GOOD. 

Heather bought me a new camera for my birthday, which meant we had to have a self-timer photoshoot on the beach after dinner.  If you are on my facebook, you have seen some of these already...

 This one below I like to call the "Birth Announcement", or in otherwords, "my life partner is pregnant with our love child" announcement.   I am not pregnant, but the placement of Heather's hand makes it seem otherwise. 

 I also mentioned awhile ago that I had a conference in Charlotte this week.  Tonight I am actually getting to meet Nat from The Poky Little Cupcake.  Our hotel has a little pond by it.  Hence the pond shot below.  I am excited to meet Nat, however, I am concerned that I will be drunk by the time we meet at 8:30.  Free drinks at the conference start in 15 minutes.  Good lord.

 Here is another shot from my birthday.

 My parents are house/dog/kitty sitting for us while we are gone.  We went boating in Pensacola before we left and went to Ft. Pickens on Pensacola Beach.  This is Big Al and me (my dad).  Like father like daughter.

I have more to blog about, like the fact that Heather bought me my first pair of spandex UnderArmour Running Capris and I feel like a sexy beast in them, but they fall down when I run.  So I will blog about that maybe later. 

But I must go.  There is free wine to be had.  And mama likes free wine.  And nooners.  Did I mention Heather is here with me?  Vacationing whilst I work?

Toodles my friends!

You Can't Handle The Truth

*could you hear me using my Jack Nicholson voice?*

I have found that in life, most people do not want to hear the truth.  They may think they want to hear the truth, but usually what most of us mean is...I want you to sugarcoat it and spin it so it makes me feel better about myself.

Like when your friend decides to die their gorgeous brunette hair, jet black because they think it will make their eyes pop, and they ask you, "Do you like it".  They don't really want to hear..."um...NO.  You look like a goth Emo kid who huffs spray paint behind Pizza Hut".  They want to hear "It's pretty".  So instead you say "I DO like it (your voice goes higher when you say DO), but I LOVED it brown.

See.  A little sugarcoat dusting.

Most of the time I don't want to hear the truth when it comes to being "stuck" on the scale.  I actually want someone to gently rock me, all the while brushing my hair and whispering things like, "ssshhh baby, it's just genetics.  Or water weight.  Or maybe the scale is broken.  Or maybe your body just likes chilling at __insert whatever weight__, and I am sure that the snicker wrappers you have hidden in your car, or your lack of exercise, or your midnight binging have nothing to do with it...shhhhh....you are pretty".

But, I should go ahead and tell you just to make sure I havent fooled you since the beginning, I am no exercise physiologist or smart person.  I majored in Communication.  But lately I have been having moments of clarity about this being stuck bullshananigans. 

I keep repeating to myself "Up Your Game".  And that is what it boils down to for MOST of us don't you think?  We KNOW where we can improve.  If we are really honest with ourselves, usually we can identify those areas that we can do better.

What's ironic is that I started writing this post yesterday, and get to live it and eat my own words as I type today.  You see, I gained three pounds over Travis's visit.  Not the end of the world.  But I did expect it to be nearly gone by today.  Yesterday I did ran a mile, did circuit, sweated like a dirty hog, then did Zumba after work...again...sweating like a dirty hog.  Not to mention, I ate "Really Good".

And do you know what I had lost after all of this hardwork and exercise?  .2 pounds.  yeah.  POINT TWO.

And this is where the honesty came in.  I worked out really hard yesterday.  I couldn't have asked for more really.  But this is what I ate:

Breakfast:  Protein bar and milk (probably about 2 cups)
Lunch:  Tomato soup with feta cheese
Snack: 3 pieces of celery with peanut butter and raisins on top
Dinner:  I tried steel cut oatmeal and decided it was as horrible as I thought it would be so I heated up a chicken casserole left over (about a cup) and had two pieces of toast with butter and cinnamon sugar.  YUM

Pretty good for me I must say.  I drank about 60 ounces of water.  And probably consumed 5 cans of diet pop.

Mmmmhmmm...do you see what I mean?  Even though it was a "really good day", I could have done better.  I could have drank more water.  Cut out all of the diet soda.  Not eaten the toast, etc.  If the scale is not moving for me...then I have to reevaluate.

I have to be honest. 

And I think it is important to realize that my crazy workout schedule, or someone else's immaculate food consumption may NOT be what you need to do.  If you barely work out now, well then hell, 3 days a week of solid cardio or weights might be your jump start.  For me, it would be moving backwards....but we are all different.  It really comes down to improving YOU.  Not doing what works for someone else. 

Oh yes.  Don't you love it when you stumble across a weight loss thought that really relates to life as a whole?

I do.  I feel like Yoda. 

However, Yoda probably wouldn't have let the .2 loss turn him into a grumpy bitch.  DAMN IT.  I wish I was perfect.

The Saga of The Deflated Boobs: Episode 341

Look! Amy has nice full boobies!

Psych!

balakdfha;haovjovij!

Happy Thursday.  May your cups runneth over.