Wednesday, June 20, 2012


If you could wish for just one thing...what would you wish for? As I lay in bed, which I have realized is where I apparently do a great deal of thinking, most of it irrational...I was pondering what it is I wish for most in this life.

Money?  No
A job I love?  No
Boobs that sit where they belong and dont look like basset hound ears when I am brushing my teeth?  No.

I mean, don't get my wrong.  I would take any of those things.  But if I had one wish...I think I would wish for

Not WORLD peace...bah...

Internal peace.  I am at war with myself all of the time.  That may have been a smidge dramatic...but I do feel like inside my brain I am always fighting something.  It could be the food fight, the weight fight, the money fight, the job fight, the "not good enough" fight.  It is rare that I feel "peace".  There are times, and they come upon me at the most random times, when for a few minutes I actually feel IT.  It's so calm.  And in that moment I want for nothing, I hate nothing...I am peace.  But then it's gone again.  And sometimes it is the opposite end of the spectrum.  Like if Peace was at one end, my brain resides at the other far as the other end can be.  The 7th hemisphere of Planet Zorg?

And as more and more "real life" people read my blog, I find myself hesitating to share this crazy place in my brain.  Because what if they realize that I am a sham?  Then again, most of the "real life" people who read my blog have seen some pretty unattractive sides of Amy.  So maybe I am fooling no one.

Maybe peace with yourself and with life comes with age.  I can't say I am any more at peace now than when I was 22...I think the wars in my head have maybe matured...but they are still the same.  I also am not sure many people find internal peace...although I think some  of you are further along that road than me.  So maybe there is hope.  Or maybe ya'll are just good pretenders too. 

I can only hope that if I dont make peace or find peace 100%, that at least I will get to a point where I feel it at least 51%. 

I think probably all along, I have searched for things or people to bring me peace.  And years ago I finally realized that it doesn't come from outside things.  You dont find peace when you lose weight, find your soulmate, achieve financial stability, land the dream job.  It's mastering your thinking until your thinking becomes different.  I just made that up.  I am not sure it even makes sense.

Lord this is too deep for a Wednesday afternoon.

In other news...I am looking pretty precious today in some pencil/ankle length slacks, leopard print flats, and a blue button down shirt.

It's the small things people.


Oh.  And seriously.  I want to know what you would wish for.  It was not a rhetorical question.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Lose It App

Tracking calories.  You know how I feel about it.  Most of the time...I am anti-tracking.  "They say" (you know...whoever "they" is that does studies) that tracking and counting your calories is actually unhealthy for you and creates a negative relationship with food...AND...that as long as you are eating healthy and shouldn't need to worry about calories.
But let us be honest.
#1.   I do NOT eat healthy and clean most of the time....and
#2.  You can find a study that says anything...Like standing in the wind for 15 minutes each day helps you poop.  Seriously.  There is probably a study for it.

But, when I am bonkers with my food intake, or find myself rounding calories to the nearest in...oh...those peanut butter cups have ZERO calories, I track or journal.  Heather has been tracking on the regular for at least a year.  We were using the livestrong/daily plate app...but about a month ago we switch to Lose It.  You can see the little app that looks like a scale. 
I must say I like this app SO much more than the livestrong app.  It is more user friendly.  One of the best features is that when you are entering your calories, if the product has a can scan the barcode with your phone and it will find all the information for you!  This even worked for a blueberry pie made fresh at the grocery store.  It had a barcode and it pulled up the info.  It also has more exercises listed for tracking your exercise.
Below is a snapshot of how it tracks your calories and food for the day.   Pretty nice...considering the app is free.
One of the best parts about the apps is that you can add "friends".  And although I can't see what you ate or your calorie count, it will let me see any activity you have logged, how much you burnt, and the results of your weigh in...and you can see mine....and then we can comment on each other! So exciting yes?  You can barely contain yourself?  I know.

But if you do add it, and want to be my "friend" on lose it, search by my email.

The Differences Between My Lady and I

How spectacular is that diagram above?  (minus the spelling error in my circle, but seriously, it was noticed after I finished and don't really care THAT much).

I was laying...lying....whatever...I hate grammar...I was IN bed last night, unable to sleep, brain going hog wild, and I was thinking about how different Heather and I are.  And I thought...hmmm...this might make a good blog post.

Of course I could be wrong, and in that case, you can skip to the end.

But sometimes I find it amazing that we are so in love and work so well together when we are so so different.  As illustrated in the highly technical diagram above, you can see that we do have a couple of common interests.  Namely, we like animals and pasta and pizza.  That's about it.  OKAY...that's not totally it...but it makes for a funnier example.  I could say that what we DON'T have in common probably would make a longer list than what we DO have in common...but you only need one thing really in common right? Right? LOVE.  awwwww...I know.

But there are some things that are so crazily (real word I just made up) different.  Let us first examine the topic of marriage.  Heather wants to marry me (or so she has in the occasional romantic letters I get...and by occasional I mean once a year).  But she would probably be okay if we never actually officially got married, had a ceremony, etc.  I have tried to psychoanalyze her in my Dr. Phil brain lobe before.  Perhaps it's because her parents have remarried...or because marriage was never something sacred or important when she was growing up?  Maybe because she is gay-gay (another term I made up meaning not bi-sexual and only swings one way) marriage for her wasn't an option legally until recently...and still not a legal, official option in the state we live in.  Maybe because she has no desire to be the center of attention and where a stunning white dress (well...I can tell you she wont ever be wearing a dress).  Or maybe it's just because she believes you don't need a piece of paper to convey true love, devotion, and a promise we already have made each other.

I don't really know.  I know that she realizes that marrying her one day, standing in front of the people we love and respect and making the commitment to each other, IS important to me.  And...duh...bc I wasnt to have pictures taken of me in my dress, have a beautiful ring to look at when I am cleaning the house or in the bathroom, and bc it is a day all about the  But I have written my vows to her, I have romanticized the moments in my head...regardless.  Because it's important to me, she will make it important to her.  But sometimes I want her to WANT it as bad as I do.  You know...for her to say one day..."LET'S MOVE TO VERMONT...I can't wait anymore".  And yes, we could do a ceremony NOW, regardless of whether or not it's legal in Florida, but one of her deals is that until it's legal, it's kinda pretending.  And I agree with her on that point.  But one day folks...ya'lll will be traveling to a fabulous wedding.

There will be a chocolate waterfall, a diet Sunkist waterfall, and a big bowl of queso. 

Another difference is our level of public affection.  A good gauge of how much Heather has had to drink is when she starts putting the moves on me in public or in front of other people.  If she kisses me in public then she must be feeling pretty good!  When we first started dating, I honestly didn't give any thought about what other people might be thinking of two girls holding hands.  I never thought of Heather and I as "two lesbians"...I always just thought of us as two people being in love.  Heather on the other hand is always aware of the fact that there may be people around uncomfortable with our relationship.  A good example is we have another couple, two ladies, and one of them plays softball with Heather.  Well, her girlfriend showed up after a game and they were holding hands walking to the car.    I was envious because at the baseball diamonds Heather is never very "couply".  Well, several weeks later Heather was discussing our friends with another group of people and she mentioned how they were all over each other at the baseball game.

To which I corrected her and said..."No.  They were HOLDING HANDS."  To which she said "Yeah, but there were families there...and it might make them uncomfortable or the kids might ask questions"...

To which I thought " what?" 

Now if they were full on lapdancing or heaving petting (as my mother refers to it), well that's not appropriate for anyone to do in a public setting...

But to me, if a heterosexual couple can hold hands...we can hold hands. 

And it may all go back to Heather doesn't want attention drawn to her unless she decides she wants it (because when she is walking around in her bikini top and boardshorts rocking her better believe that woman wants people to notice her....mmmmmkay)?

And finally...a question I get a the about the difference between our weight/food/body mentality.

Ironically, the difference in our bodies is a non-issue on both sides.  It is not hard dating a woman who has very little body fat, toned muscles, no cellulite.  Looking at her body and admiring it does not make me hate mine.  I think it's because I know that no matter how hard I worked, even if I lost 40 more pounds, my body will never, ever look like Heather's.  There would be loose skin, there would be damage.  There will always be stretch marks and cellulite.  Even if I had plastic surgery.  So there is no use in comparing our bodies.  I love her body.  And she loves mine.  And that would be the only hard part about dating someone with a body like hers...I wonder sometimes HOW she can love my body when it's so different than the body she works hard for.

Of course, we often debate about the differences between our addictions.  She has a hard time understanding how anyone gets to be morbidly obese.  She cannot understand the mentality of "fuck it.  I know this big mac is bad for me, I know I am killing myself, but I am going to eat it anyways".  She can't understand it because food is not her addiction and she has always had control over those choices.  She doesn't understand, bless her heart, why I love me a cold Pepsi...even when I say to her "hmmmm...I can't understand why you love or crave beer"...

But really, our food mindedness is a learning experience for both of us. 

The long and short of it is this.  There is no point of this post....I just wanted to give you a little insight.

Go forth my friends...go forth and Venn diagram.  Or take a nap.  Whichever makes you happier.

Power Skirts and Hairy Legs

Today I wearing one of my pencil skirts...which I like to refer to as my powerskirt...for no other reason than I am AWESOME when I wear it...except have you ever tried to get in and out of a pickup truck wearing a pencil skirt and heels?  That shit is hard work.  Let's just say that it's hard to be a lady sometimes....mmmmkay?  But I forgot to shave.  Like...for the last several days.  YIKERS!

Every day when I check the mail, I am hoping for money.  Do you do this?  I mean, no money is really coming...but every day I open that mailbox and have hope that some random check will be there with my name on it.  Seriously.  But alas, there are usually just coupons for pizza and carpet cleaning.

I want to take you guys back to last week.  First, thanks for all the responses regarding food making the world go round.  Some of you were actually so worried about me you sent me private I frightened you and you were worried that I was standing on a bridge holding oreos in one hand and peanut butter m & m's in the other...thank you for all the concern.  It makes me feel loved.  I am really in a pretty good place mentally...other than the normal hum drum things that can get us all moody from time to time.  Perhaps someday...maybe when I am 89 or so...I will not care about food, the scale, my thighs...but until least it keeps me busy On Thursday night, some pretty spectacular things started to happen.  Pensacola got a baseball team this year, the Blue Wahoos.  They are triple A, or double A, or Aplus...something...they feed to the Cincinnati Reds.  Heather and I enjoy going.  They stadium is beautiful, right on the water, and you are close enough to the players you can actually see them...and their butts.  And I appreciated a nice big baseball player booty...okay?  So we went to a game Thursday night, and from out of nowhere...up comes a thunderstorm.  Like...a serious thunderstorm.  Most people left, but we werent leaving until they called it.  While we were huddled by the concession stands, the "cheer squad" started throwing out hot dogs.  They do this at every game, and every game my little heart starts to pitter patter at the thought of a hot weenie.  They are DEEEE-LISH-US.  Well, seeing how we were all huddled in a damp pod, I actually caught one.  It was magical.  :)I ate that sucker in about 3 minutes flat.  Bun and all.  I may like the lady lillie's now, but mama never passes up a free wiener.

Well, the game did get called for rain, and all of the little pep squad people, and a couple of the players ran out on the was still storming, but it was like a giant slipper slide.  Heather really wanted to go out there...and so I said to her "You only live once babe"...that was all it took (and about 42 ounces of beer she had ingested).  We dropped our things, hopped the fence and took off running.  The problem was, by this point, all of the workers were gone.  So it was just me and Heather out there on this baseball field, sliding on our stomachs.  We got about 3 slides in before the announcer came on the loud speaker and said "Fans, please get off the field". 

So we ran off the field, up the stadium, and out of the stadium.  It was awesome.  Here is a picture of the field covered.
So, bc our game was rained out, I went down on Friday to exchange our tickets and managed to land section 100...which is directly behind home plate.  Now you should know, that I have had one goal since the season started several months ago.  (Well, if you dont count catching a hot dog).  That one goal was to get on the JumboTron.  You know, they have camera's scanning the crowds, catching people dancing or staring or smiling.  Well, the camera ALWAYS lands on section 100...and I just knew that Friday night would be my night.  I had my routine all planned.  I wasn't going to act embarrassed or giggle when the camera found most folks...oh no.  I would OWN IT. 

It was the 8th inning.  I was loaded up on Pepsi.  There was a break in the game.  There was a some music playing...

and then it happened....

I was on the JumboTron. 

What happened next was a blur...but I immediately broke into my dance routine.  There was booty popping, there was dropping it like it was one point, I was practically humping the backside of the gentleman's head in front of me.  It was epic.  Heather was crying from laughter.  It all happened so fast...but Heather swears I was dancing for at least a full minute.  The crowd was cheering.

Seriously.  It was the best 60-80 seconds of my life.  For one mere moment...I was flipping AMAZING.  After that, all my new friends surrounding us were giving me high fives and loving me up.  They might have wanted my autograph...but they were probably too embarrassed to ask.  You struck.

The above picture comes from the album entitled "I have a gigantic bucket head and my partner has a peahead".  We have discussed this before.  But, with a little angling, you can make your head appear not so gigantic.
I also need to discuss how it's freaking raining babies and engagement rings up in this joint (also know as my life).  Everyone is getting pregnant or having kids.  Everyone is getting rings and planning weddings.  OKAY.  Not EVERYONE...but several people.  And while Heather and I most of the time agree that we don't really want kids (because we are selfish and want to buy a boat and workout supplements (heather says I have to stop talking about workout supplements on Facebook bc people are going to think I am using Steroids)), regardless of not wanting kids...babies are so damn cute and sometimes I wish that there was a possibility of one of us getting pregnant...not from doing the deed with others...but you two eggs to could make a baby.  Sigh.  Because let's face it.  Our baby girl would be precious.  And I NEED a baby girl so she can dance and sing with me and brush my hair when I tell her too. 

Our friend Maddi and Peter just had a little boy.  Our friend Lisa (Heather's boss) just had a little girl.  My best friend in Seattle just had a little boy.  My coworker and her sister, both my friends, are pregnant!  My coworker is engaged!  Catherine is engaged!  I wanna be engaged!  My finger would look lovely with a nice diamond on it.  Sigh.  I am going to start looking for jobs in states where it's legal for us to be married.  Heather said we can move anywhere as long as I am getting paid double my current salary.  Are any of you hiring? 

Until then, here I am holding Nylah Jane. 
Babies are cute.  I wanna eat their faces.

I gained weight this weekend.  SHOCKING.  Not really since I ate blueberry pie, chocolate chip cookies, and a delicious steak with bread and pesto and other yummy items.  But come yesterday, I am back at it. 

Let's see...what else what else....

I think that's it for now.  I have another post brewing in my head. 

Until then my friends- 

your sister in banding, humor, or just plain prettiness...


Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Food Makes The World Go Round

The funny thing about food...well...I guess it's not really funny because I'm not actually laughing....but shockingly sad to think about is...

My world REVOLVES around food.  This is not a particularly new revelation, but sometimes I find it daunting and overwhelming.  And then, I can't really think logically about it.  Meaning...I can't imagine that there exists a person out there that is thinking about food all the time.  And I know there ARE people like that, like Heather doesn't think about it ALL the time.  But for some people is food really just fuel?

How insane that would be to go a day or...this is crazy talk now...TWO days in a row not thinking about what I want to eat, what I should eat, what I have eaten, how many calories, how it will translate to my thighs...


And I think that is why I go crazy eating.  Isn't that the basis of binge?  Denying yourself until you find yourself covered in cookie crumbs and bacon bits? But even when I operate on the "non-denying diet", you know...what I am doing right now...

sometimes it just gets so overwhelming that I say FUCK IT DUDE!  I am going to eat whatever I want. 

But I can't even enjoy that!  Because the entire time I am thinking about how I am going to SO regret it.


I don't know if I have ever identified as an emotional eater.  But sometimes I get a peek-a-boo at the Amy that may indeed eat of out emotion.  Clearly I eat of of boredom, but sometimes when I feel real glum, or when something "bad" happens that stabs my good mood right in the heart...I think FUCK IT DUDE!  I might as well eat melted cheese and cream filled cookies because my life sucks.

WHY dont I have all the answers!  WHY?!?!?!?!?!

Anyways.  Happy Wednesday friends. 


I hate drinking water. 

Monday, June 11, 2012

Changing Nothing, Expecting Something Different

Greetings on a Monday friends!  If any of you have been watching the news or weather channel, you may know we have been getting an absurd amounts of rain over here in Pensacola.  13.1 inches on Saturday, and then several more yesterday.  All is well on our side of town one is floating away.  We are dogsitting and monitoring my sisters house for the weekend and week....and I had grand plans of floating naked in the pool and sunning my bits...but bit tanning to be had.

After Memorial Weekend we were supposed to return geared up for a 7 day "detox" if you will, which included eating only "clean" foods.  This was really Heather's idea, geared to get me back on track with my food choices.  Well, after I informed her that "clean eating" meant that SHE could not drink beer or have wine for 7 days...

she decided her idea was stupid.

I decided to go with it for the most part...

Really, I just enacted the old Amy's plan of DOING BETTER.  You know. Every so often I give it a go.  Less calories, less junk, more water, more fresh food, less candy, less cookies, no fast food, less eating out, preparing lunches, having healthy snacks on hand.

I know that I eat (aka) GRAZE the most at work. It can be terrible.  A little here, a little there...a few pounds here, and a few inches there.  So I got rid of our crap, and tried to come up with a plan.  Drink water before I go for food, eat almonds or string cheese instead of oreos...drink a diet sunkist if I just HAVE to have a soda, then drink a little more water.

It's been going pretty good.  Of course it always does for a few weeks.

If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got....

That's the saying right? So what am I doing different this time?  Well hell...

Nothing.  Maybe I should focus on that.  Focus on what I am going to do different this time rather than expecting a different result from the same actions.

Here is the truth about weight loss surgery folks.

No matter WHICH surgery a person picks... No matter which device, which cut, which operation, which staple, which implant, which THING that a person chooses...

It can fail.  The person can fail.  The device can fail.  The surgery can fail.  There can be complications...either by fault of the body, the surgeon, the patient, or the device.  And for those of you who have blogged long enough, searched blogs long enough, researched, or seen it with your own eyes...sometimes it just doesn't work out. 

It's important to know that the band is not the right choice for everyone.  Neither is the sleeve.  Neither is gastric bypass.  But whatever choice someone makes, they have to take responsibility for their actions.  The actions of a weight loss patient have a direct impact on the outcomes of their tool or surgery.

And I worry about those who have to switch to an alternative weight loss surgery option, either because they didnt get the results they hoped for with their original choice or because their original choice failed.  Think about Carnie Wilson.  She chose to band over bypass.  And you would think that with 2 weight loss surgeries in place...she would FOR SURE succeed this time.  But if you can cheat bypass, and you can cheat the band (as I well know), then what's to say that you CAN'T cheat both? 

We cheat our surgeries...we eat too much, we push too much...we eat sliders, we eat shit...

We do things we are not supposed to because we are addicted to food.  Our actions and the way our brain is wired does not change with a weight loss surgery...regardless of which one we choose.

So.  With all that said.  Clearly my band has helped me.  It has helped me temper my actions.  It has prevented me from going apeshit crazy.  It has helped me from gaining back 160 or so pounds back and more.

But when I saw 184.8 on the scale....that wasn't my bands fault. 

It was mine. 

And regardless of whether I need more restriction, or could use more restriction...more restriction wouldn't restrict my brain.

Which is my biggest enemy.

For most of us...this will always be a battle.  And I guess we just choose our weapons and hope to that we have good aim...most of the time.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Turkey Legs and Other Horrible Things

Let us discuss several things.  First and foremost...turkey legs. And I am not talking about the kind you get at Fairs where strange people are walking around dressed as peasants and medieval people...I am talking about the turkey leg that is attached to my body. 

Two of them to be precise.  But it is so frustrating at times when you see something like this:
Do you see it?  I KNOW you do.  But just in case....

Sha-bango!  @$(U*Y 

I mean, I WORKOUT.  I squat, I lunge, hell...sometimes I actually do CARDIO!  I leg press, I kettlebell.  And yet...those damn thighs haunt me.  And granted, my thigh is next to Heathers muscles sticks, but I am really talking about the cellulite more than the size.  But they do kinda resemble a turkey leg standing straight up.  Alas, when I saw this picture I was so sad.  It just seems like after several years of working out, it would be better than it is. 

But oh well.  We shall overcome.  And if not, at least if we are ever flying together to Alaska, and plane crash in a frozen tundra, and if I go to that big buffet in the all can dine on my turkey thigh for several nights.  It will be my final gift.

Several months ago we went to the zoo...and this big feller was walking around loose.  And his waddle reminded me of something...that's labia...
Do you remember that post from March 2010 about shaving my whootananny?  You can find it here if is a proud moment.

Our kitty kat, pictured above in her lady pose...has been bringing us things with faces.  Usually frogs and assorted lizards.  Sometimes they are dead.  Sometimes they are dying.  Well the other night we were sleeping and I remember hearing a squeaking noise and thought it was odd that Honey May's ball sounded so weak (she has a super annoying squeaky ball).  Then I heard something slam into the bed (I believe it was kitty kats head) and thought, for one second, she had a mouse.  And then I fell back asleep.

Heather wakes up a later to get ready for work.  She comes back to the bedroom from our bathroom which is connected to our walk in closet and says that there is a mouse in there.  Alive. 

I spring out of bed BUTT NAKED.  Usually I sleep in underwear, but I must have been trying to get some action that night (fail)...anyways, I dash to the kitchen, grab and oven mitt and and empty cereal box and go inot the closet.  I guarantee it was ATTRACTIVE.  My bits were dangling, by boobs were flopping.  I was squatting, whispering to myself and Heather "it's just a mouse, it's just a mouse".  Well that little sucker shot out like a ball from a cannon and we both started screaming...shoving each other around in the closet.  Then, imagine this.  I am bent over.  One hand and one oven mitt on the ground, trying to see under the racks.  It's quiet.

Quiet as a MOUSE.

(that was good...come one)

And that thing runs by me again and I swear to you, I went on one hand, two feet in the air donkey kicking.  It had to be a beautiful sight.

Long story short, we caught it after awhile and I released it.

Since then, more lizard deaths have occurred, one mole death, and one live mole.  Which I managed to save and release back into our yard so it can continue to destroy our grass.

There is never a dull moment in our house.

Dont you wanna come and visit?