Good Day

Why’s it so hard to write about a good day.

Almost as hard as writing about a bad day.

Nothing exciting. I saw Under the Tuscan Sun last night and cried (MLG too) though MLG felt it didn’t need a Hollywood ending and I agreed though I was staring into his freckled brown eyes, my own Hollywood ending.

We shared a large unbuttered popcorn and I’m sure I ate more than I should have. I thought that was my dinner but after the movie we got Chic-fil-a sandwiches, me the grilled variety.

Had huge problems at the concession stand. I don’t understand why you can’t order clear, diet, caffeine free drinks. MLG says that’s called “water” and yes but I mean like some Diet Sprite. They wouldn’t let me substitute the bottled water for the medium drink in the combo special, that really upset me because water’s healthier. After much discussion and pulling the manager over it was decided we’d spend the extra $.80 so I could have the Dasani.

All in all it was a good day. Even worked out and had that icky metallic sweat that unfortunately feels like the definitive mark of a good workout though I can’t tell for the life of me where it comes from, my hair, armpits, feet? It’s a mystery. Saw only half of the Dr Phil weightloss Monday show and feel a little bad he’s kicking 5 out. I can’t think of one that should go. They are all deserving and all desirous. And honestly it would be nice to have someone struggling. To struggle and overcome is better than being the model weightloss person. Look at me, so damn easy, why can’t everyone do it like me.

Just a few things…

Like Amy I think I’ve put too much pressure on myself to perform so I’m backing off. Not that I’m taking it less seriously, I am totally serious, and I’m totally back on the wagon as of today, it’s just I’m back to mini-steps. I just want to see how today goes and then tomorrow I’ll work on tomorrow. No more “by Thanksgiving I’ll be thin” thoughts because then I think, “ah I’ve got until Thanksgiving, I can totally put this off until tomorrow and eat today.” You can’t put off today and expectations of yourself today. So today I’m trying my hardest to be on program and I know I can’t screw up one day. One day is cake (not literally). It’s looking at the 8 weeks or whatever that’s hard. Today I can do. Meal to meal, hour to hour.

My mom also started a diet today so we’re kind of doing it together.

It was a real bummer to try on the dress I wore to the last wedding I attended and find out I couldn’t even get the zippers to touch. Not even freaking touch. Granted most of the things I loathe to wear or can’t wear now are size 6. Who’s idea was it to buy size 6s? Though the 8s are getting tight too and I avoid all pants like the plague. All hip hugger skirts are now waste high skirts. I hate my stomach.

And somewhat like Erin I’ve actually found myself thinking, “it’ll be nice to be back to dieting so my stomach doesn’t hurt anymore.” I just gave the weekend to myself. I just ate everything I could possibly think of. And most things didn’t taste as good as I thought they should so that’s a bonus. So by tomorrow things should be peachy. No more upset tummy.

I’ll post my plan when I’ve solidified exactly what it is.

Happy Birthday Baby

It’s my birthday. And I’ve been major swamped at work. I’m sitting in front of not none, but two bouquets of flowers and a small pink birthday cake to my right. MLG had a dozen red roses with little purple flowers delivered and my stepfather had an adorable girlie bouquet sent over. I can’t tell you the warmth it makes me feel that all these people thought of me today and wanted to do something special. Seems kooky I know.

Just had some cake. It was good. Boss Lady made a great selection. And I got one of those From All of Us cards. I feel kind of bad though because my birthday is the first one the office has celebrated in a while (like the whole year). Lunch Buddy, who’s birthday was about a week ago, says to never complain about cake and icecream.

Anyway kids, I gotta run because I have to finish up here and then get ready for my birthday date tonight with MLG. He’s taking me to my favorite restaurant and we’re getting dressed up (me in a $220 size 10 dress that’s roomy in the top - I have to access the dress more appropriately in a full length mirror before I make a final decision, arrived via overnight UPS today – ugh gaining weight is expensive).

Tonight will be really fun.

I want to leave MLG’s bouquet here so I can enjoy it tomorrow at work and take my stepfather’s home so I don’t have two water filled bouquets to take home tomorrow but Lunch Buddy says I should take them both home tomorrow (or just MLG’s tonight) or he may be disappointed. I think if I told him I wanted to enjoy them tomorrow at work he’d understand.

They really turn a frown into a smile, you know. I should always have MLG roses on my desk and I’d never feel bad at work. They work better than the cake. Hmm, I may be onto something here.

Can’t Get No Worse

I’ve been watching the Dr Phil shows about his Ultimate Weightloss Thing-a-ma-bob and yesterday I really started getting into it. I can’t help but wonder why hasn’t somebody jumped on this idea as a reality show. I could totally get into this. I haven’t decided if it should be serious-minded like Dr Phil or be more Big Brother with competitions and kicking members out and so forth. How many times did someone turn to me during Survivor or whatever and say, “well if we could just stick you on a deserted island for a couple months we could knock those pounds right off” as I was scarfing pizza and shivering over the thoughts of spiders crawling on me as I slept in the sand.

But this, this is interesting. Of all the reality shows I’ve watched, and you know I dig them, am way too excited about Bob on the Bachelor tonight, this one is most interesting to me.

I still don’t understand what that chick was screaming about in the confessional room. Was it directed at something or someone or just an arbitrary scream fest? Dunno.

The thing that gets me is this all or nothing attitude. Like if we’re all here to lose weight then fuck the birthday cake and fuck the peanut butter too. I really feel, though I’m lately not the poster child, that someone these foods need to continue to be okay to eat. That was a tiny-ass cake and the 13 of them could certainly cut that bad boy up and celebrate the guy’s birthday and not feel like it’s the end of the world food wise. It’d be what 400 calories a teeny slice or something. I guess they might have thought it was a test and if you ate it Dr Phil wasn’t going to pick you and that would suck. Definitely not worth a piece of cake. Not when you’re clawing at the face of 12 other people to vie for 8 spots and not to mention the handsome reward (oh wait, didn’t Dr Phil call it something else?)

And the bitching over the salmon. The chick who said she’s never eaten anything but fried foods. And was begging and bitching about some salt. I didn’t like salmon the first time I ate it either. But now it’s one of my favorite foods. If it was cheaper I’d eat it more often. Only takes like 15 minutes or so to grill. And it really is devine.

I think the whole I’ve only eaten fried foods my whole life should be a huge light bulb moment. Everyone knows the fried food rule. Just like everyone knows the Oreos rule and the icecream rule. I know, I know.

Somehow though I wish they could understand balancing food. Maybe it’s the whole trigger food thing, I don’t know.

I need to watch the show again. When he was talking to the black chick, god I’m embarrassed I can’t remember her name and have to call her the black chick, but I relate so much to her and what he told her. I wanted to transcribe what he said to her. I might have taped over it with Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. If it’s still on the tape I’d like to transcribe either the whole thing or just the impertinent part in a quote form. He had some great things to say.

I still really like when he said, “at what point did you decide it was okay to settle for being the fat girl”. Am I really settling for oh well I couldn’t maintain. I’ll maintain at 150 or whatever (gain it all back).

It’s amazing to me how being 145 pounds still feels like 200 pounds which might as well be 300 pounds. I feels so close to me. It’s not so much the weight as the state of mind. Yet I can’t understand for the life of me why I don’t feel as strong and determined as I once did. It’s not like foreign to me, it’s right there, I can almost taste it, but then there’s this part of me who’s in denial, oh 145 isn’t so bad, I’m still a size 10, MLG thinks I’m beautiful, no one can really tell I gained some back (though they can), I was too hungry at 131 anyway, who can maintain when you’re constantly hungry (though I’m hungry at 145 too). It’s so close I can taste it, I really can. I just have to get through these birthday dinners, tomorrow and Saturday and I think by Sunday I’ll be ready to go. Maybe before then, who knows. I really am starting to feel stronger despite what it may seem.

Donuts for Birthday Presents

It seems MLG is nervous at the prospect of buying me a birthday gift. His partner has informed him that the first present (or was it birthday present) is do or die time. I would never break up with someone because they bought me a lame present. He did want me to recommend some items in the jewelry store while we were at the mall. Poor guy. Initiation into exactly how picky I am is always startling the first time. My mother once took me shopping for a dress for a dance and tears and a fight insued at different times until she (pissed off) threw $300 down for a dress and told me never to ask her for another dance dress. Unfortunately it was the 1980s and the dress was out of style (and god awful) before the season changed.

I circulated the closest jewelry store (his suggestion) and passing by the first counter MLG says, “You don’t like any of those?” Which really was amusing to me. We cased three jewelry stores and I couldn’t find anything but an $800 pair of chandelier earrings that I liked (and he could get a $40 pair from Banana Republic and I’d be equally happy). I could have visited more jewelry stores looking for the illusive non-tacky non-swirly-ornamentive piece of jewelry (chandelier earrings don’t count) but I tired the poor boy out. He said, “perhaps jewelry isn’t the best thing to get you.” And I replied, “I’m really easy to shop for. I know exactly what I want. The problem is finding the store who carries what I want.” He gave me a crooked smile.

I worked out yesterday after Dr Phil’s show closed with, “when did you decide it was okay to be the fat girl?” but later in a moment of weakness had a donut from Krispy Kreme (but only one). It was totally my fault, I should have not eaten it. Of course it was my fault, duh. It was, what are they 300 calories, not too bad but pushed me up near 2000 calories.

I also ordered a size 10 strapless dress. A big no-no but I need something to wear. The eight was always tight anyway.

Excuses, excuses.

There's No Hiatus Here!

Well, I was going to go on hiatus. I feel like I’m running out of things to talk about and either need to get my act together diet wise (I’m still trying and holding at 145.5 pounds) or return to journal writing to work out other issues (and everything is really great so I’m stumped for problems to work through, knock on wood). But I was desperately trying to find a black strapless dress in a size 10 for delivery by Thursday for my birthday (my size eight is too small and I’m too much of a lunatic to be able to diet down one freaking dress size) and googled my own site. Imagine that. And I thought I’d let you guys know I faired perfectly fine in the hurricane. It hit north of here and it’s where the eye hits and a little above that’s the bad part. I saw a picture of the outer banks were the road’s been washed completely out and it’s now an inlet. The outer banks is not a good place to live. Never has been, never will be. We got a lot of rain and I was pouty at work until we could leave early and MLG met me at my house where there was a good spot for my car (that I was most concerned about) and spent the day with him. It was lovely afterwards, cool and dry, and then like all post-hurricanes it gets hot as all get out. And it was just starting to get cool here. Power flickered only. At one point it flickered as we were eating lunch and went completely out. MLG says all disappointed, “well I guess it’s out. I thought we’d get lucky” and it came right back on as he said that and we chuckled.

Of course I finally decided to buy the Banana Republic dress and the size 10 is the only size they are out of. A sign? Who knows.

I’m very disappointed that my clothes don’t fit. I’ve had a pretty good day so far and even had lunch at home. MLG and I have been trying to take as many walks as we can. On Saturday we took a four mile walk right when we woke up. It sucked at the time but walking around a lake commits you unlike a treadmill so we had to finish, not that I’ve never quit once I was on a treadmill. Afterwards it felt really good and we tried to figure a way to work it into our daily schedule but it’s difficult. We’d have to get up at 5:30 or 6 and that’s asking a lot out of a guy who casually gets up without an alarm at 8. We are trying to eat more meals at home so we’ll see how it goes.

I’ll try to write but forgive me if I have nothing witty to say or it’s the same ole same ole for a while. I’m not quite sure what I’m going through but trust me I think about it all the time. I’m just flabbergasted because I’m really happy. I always thought I ate because I was lonely and sad about life. But that’s not why after all.

I haven’t given up. I’m still here. I’m still working things out. Thanks for checking back. I’ll try not to let you guys down.

Hurricane Woes

I’m still hanging in there. I had an entry on Friday that I was about to post when my computer locked up. It was a sign to me to just leave, get out silently and quickly, so therefore, no post.

I maintained.

Then I had another bad weekend.

And now I’m back on track again. I’m having a really bad TOM including some serious nausea so I haven’t been working out but I’m in the game.

I’m really hoping this Dr Phil segment will help me out. Yesterday’s show was kind of lame. I hate those questions, “why should I pick you?” I don’t think there’s a good answer. 3000+ people want help. They all took the time to write and send videos. They’re all frustrated and in tears about the whole thing. They know it’s hard. They know the statistics, they even know HOW to lose weight. They are hoping this will be different, that Dr Phil will open their eyes to the hidden “mystery” of why this is happening, why people try to destroy their bodies, they don’t know what it is, I’ve been trying to figure it out for over a year and still don’t think I know why I’m doing it. But if Dr Phil could help, reach down deep in your soul, write an email or send a video and cross your fingers and hope he’ll put you on the spot with that god awful question and pick you, and show you something you haven’t seen for all these years.

Anyway, yesterday’s show was lame. Hopefully today’s will be better. I could use a little help from my own internal Dr Phil. Maybe I need to buy that book.

Or maybe I could just do it since I know what to do.

I’ve decided to try, though I’m really hungry right now, to eat a smaller breakfast and smaller lunch and see if that helps. I did really well yesterday and then had a slice of pizza at MLG’s. All I had to do was say, “no thanks, you can have it.” But instead I ate the pizza slice and we talked about Hurricane Is@bel.

The real problem behind this whole hurricane experience is not what happens at work, or where I should stay and how to haul my kitties with me, or having enough water, or batteries, or Oreos, no, the problem is the damn Dave Matthews tickets PB Guy sold me last week for Wednesday night’s show.

Supposedly lots of people actually leave for a hurricane and they’ll probably be leaving on Wednesday when we are heading out of town to see the show. Of course we’ll be rubber necked and I’ll freak out because we’ll miss the first couple songs and it’ll suck. Then there’s the problem of getting home. Someone had the bright idea to perhaps use both sides of the interstate as exit routes. Meaning if you go to the Dave Matthews concert you can’t come back on the interstate because it’s going that way too.

Supposedly no one thought about those who are concert attendees and need to get home for the big storm. So I’ve mapped an alternate route that’s slower and we’ll have to hope for the best.

This could all be resolved if a) Mother Nature would turn the hurricane back to sea b) they would just post-pone the concert and save me much worry c) they’d just leave the interstate alone unless it’s a category 5 or strong 4 (maybe). If it floods you can’t get back home. If there’s a tree in the road, you can’t get back home. Being out of town won't necessary help you. They are going to get hit too. They'll lose power and it’ll be just as hot there. Just stay home, batten down, play some scrabble, light some candles, and hope the trees don’t fall on the house (or your new car).

I'm Just Sayin'

I keep thinking some big momentous post will come to me at work here today but so far I’ve got nothing so I’ll just do one of those stream-of-conscious posts and hope for the best.

I had 1500 calories yesterday and really wasn’t that upset about it. I was happy to be journaling my calories and an extra 101 calories didn’t wig me out. It was nice to know where I stood and why. Instead of rough estimating and having another snack anyway.

Last night after basketball MLG asked me out for icecream. I told him I couldn’t have icecream but I’d go with him. He let me have a bite and honestly, like having a sip of coke from time to time, it was just as good as having the whole thing. I was just happy being with him and not letting it come between us.

By the way only having a sip of coke is one of the best tastes in the world. A little piece of heaven, I’m telling you.

We did go for a short walk later, which rocked because it was cool out and I could wear drawstring pants and a sweater and not get hot. Oh, I love you autumn.

Today the scale moved slightly, which should be good considering I’m not exercising yet, but geez, it would be nice to be below what I weighed last Friday (144.5), instead of the same or more. Just a half pound scale gods. Pretty please with Dairy Queen on top?

Today I’m wearing my size eight olive capris and though they are tight (making me feel fat despite wearing size 8) I couldn’t wear them last week (even though I weighed less, weird) so at least that’s good. Or maybe I wasn’t in the mood to wear tight-ass clothes last week. That could be it.

Campbell’s Select has come out with microwavable soups, namely New England Clam Chowder, 200 calories for a 2 cup serving bowl. It’s very very good and feels like a lot of food for 200 calories. Highly recommended.

Other than that I got really hungry about ½ hour ago. It may have been dehydration, I tried to convince myself to drink a bottle of water first and hold out another ½ hour before visiting the vending machine but instead agreed to eat the Oreos (dammit) and drink the water and have a very small dinner to make up for it. Very. Small. Dinner. Missy. (Finger Point to self.) 299 calories, you promised. For weigh day if nothing else.

Damn I coulda had 569 calories for dinner. Doesn’t even take 5 freaking minutes to eat 6 Oreos. Very hard to pace yourself.

Exercise starts Saturday. I’m just sayin’.

Awakenings

I know this was over a week ago but it’s something I’ve been thinking about since it was asked of me. When the Washington Post interviewed me I got stumped when she asked me if I’d be able to keep the weight off. There were a gazillion things that popped into my head. Namely, I had already gained back almost 12 pounds. Statistically speaking, generally in the world (the infamous 95% gain it back… and more), and my own history (gaining and losing weight my whole life), I’m in a bad scary place right now. I paused and stammered, “yes,” with a hint (or more) of questioning and insecurity about the whole thing. I felt I should say yes because I’m trying to be a more optimistic person and having a “successful” diet blog, it’s kind of like my job to prove it can be done.

But the question loams each day as I fight figures on a scale, will I gain it back?

The sad fact is I fought my entire way up to 199 pounds and over 200 pound before that. There were countless gains and losses of 20 – 40 pounds pretty much my whole life. There’s no fun portion of time where I get to go, “whoopee, I’m going to eat a bunch of crap and gain weight.” It’s a fight the whole way up the scale. I understand when people say I dieted my way up to such-and-such weight.

I remember reaching 150 pounds the last time I was going through this (on my way to 199 pounds) and going to the doctor and begging him to help me. My mom was with me and she pleaded with him too. There was nothing he could do. I was too thin for medication (that doesn’t help anyway). He didn’t understand that I could pretty much be considered obese, it was only a matter of time. I’m my own ticking time bomb. I was just told to cut back and exercise.

Like I don’t know that.

And now, here I am at 145.5, so freaking close to 150 pounds. I feel so close to that moment, that feeling of desperation and no one there (of a professional nature) to help me. And I’m fighting it. It’s not that I’m not fighting it or that I’ve resigned myself. That’s not it at all. I had a great day yesterday and today’s looking really good too. But that’s they way it always is. The way it’s always been. I fight and scratch and claw and still gain anyway. What’s changed to stop it this time?

I can only take it day by day, the same way I always have. It feels like a disease, like I’m just waiting for it to come back. It reminds me of the scene in the movie Awakenings when Robert De Niro knows he’s regressing back. I’m trying to hide it and fake it like everything’s fine but, well, you know the rest.

Today, however, is a good day. Let’s just leave it at that.

Watch Yourself

Oh my god. I worked the entire day yesterday. No breaks, no nothing.

There’s something very wrong about that.

Though the day went rather fast.

Anyway I’m going to try to pop this post out before I get back into work.

I fell down my steps again. Long time readers might remember last year I fell down my stairs, I live in a garage apartment with a deck and wooden staircase. I got this huge bruise and complained about it incessantly. I fell again on Saturday, not once but twice. And no I’m not an idiot and yes Mom I was being careful. If you fall once trust me you are careful the second time. I’ve been careful since last year. But falling on a slick surface is strange. You lose your footing in a nano-second. And it doesn’t matter if you are holding the rail or not (I also happened to be carrying a laundry basket on one trip and the recyclables on the second trip, but I WAS holding the rail), you are just down before you have time to think about it.

The first fall wasn’t so bad. I was merely shaken and a bit embarrassed. My mom came over after I called her (being the landlady and all) and bleached the stairs for me (I was a mad cleaner on Saturday and was at the point of exhaustion when the fall occurred). Then a couple hours later I fell again on the same spot (on my butt, not the stairs, it was a little further down) and it really hurt. I had that whole shallow breathing, I can’t breath thing going on, and started crying. I had to sit there for about 30 seconds just breathing, fanning my face very elephant in a tutu lady like and then tried to walk down to the garage to finish my laundry. That’s when I ran into my mother by the pool (she was cleaning it, not lounging) and I started crying and she started this spiel on how I need to be more careful. So they were dumbass tears.

The weird thing is there’s no bruise. Slight discoloration (and very slight) but no 4 inch round bruise that turns all shades of ugly like last year. Nothing to taunt anyone with (“you think that hurts, look at this”).

Anyway. It hurts. But Aleve has been helping. And you don’t realize what your butt muscle is doing to help you with your day until you hurt it. I was doing great yesterday and carried 3 reams of paper upstairs and it pulled and freaked out and was sore pretty much the whole night.

The diet has been bad. I lost 2.5 pounds the first day and was so impressed with myself that I slacked off. So now I’m up higher than I started. I’ve decided to take this in smaller segments. I’m going to work on my diet (starting today) including full journaling (at home, sorry kids) since I can’t really exercise anyway. And then next week I’ll add exercise. I’m uping my calories to 1300s and then will maybe drop the last 100 when I get used to that.

This is really difficult. And I have full on desire, tight clothes, embarrassed to be naked, a wedding to attend in October (and nothing to wear that will fit me), the whole gamut. What’s wrong with me? It doesn’t feel like self-sabotage. I’m happier than I’ve ever been my whole life. I would really describe myself as happy. I can’t think of another time in my life that I would do so.

UPDATE

Ok, eating at home rocks! I had a ton of food for only 460 calories. I’m still in the 700s total for today and have over 500 calories for dinner. Best of all, I’m feeling really strong.

God, I hope it stays.

Run Through

I did well all day but then caved at dinner time. I called yesterday my “run through” day. MLG, who was going in for a kiss, laughed in my mouth when I told him this. It was a good chuckle had by all, though really just exasperates my issues with having to diet.

I received a very moving email by a girl who understood my plight when it came to food as an addiction. And it really hit home, this struggle, it's constant and unwavering. Thoughts of food constantly throughout the day, whether I'm thin or fat. How I WAS at 131.5 pounds and hungry and knowing I would have difficulty holding onto it. And of course I didn’t, though I want to give it another shot. I miss that body, god I miss that body. And it wasn’t even thin, it was just normal. No stomach taunting me, making me hide it, seeing it from the side sticking out unnaturally, unflattering. And in the shower I swear I can feel my legs sticking together (not touching, sticking, there’s a difference). It’s a freaking nightmare, the whole process, and I’m just really trying to figure out what I need to do about it. I have some ideas and I think they’re good ideas but implementation and follow through is the difficult part. And this is separate from the immediate problem of losing 14.5 pounds. I have to figure out how to maintain once I get there. Abstinence from the foods I love won’t work so I have to find someway to include them in some small way without getting this air of entitlement (I deserve cake today and everyday) that’s just wrecking me and this whole process.

It’s something I’ll be working through in the next 8 weeks. It’s an individualized thing, I really don’t need baby carrot suggestions, I know what it takes I just need to figure out what will work for me. Obviously the 5 pound cushion doesn’t work, it turns into a 15 pound cushion and next thing you know my clothes no longer fit and I have this pain in the ass tummy to contend with.

So yesterday was a run through day and today has been startling well. I was going for the Honey Baked Ham Café lunch but changed it to S@hara (chicken pita, light and yummy) and saved myself about 280 calories.

Next week, I really am going to try to eat at home or bring lunch to work. If Dr Phil season would just start already I could go back to bringing the tape to work to watch with Lunch Buddy like last year. It’ll save money and calories, a double bonus really, though it’s unbelievably fun to eat out for lunch, like a little treat in the middle of prison or something commonly known as work.

I tried to tell the flat tire story to my mom last night and only got half way before she interrupted me and started back on her woes with her boyfriend so I thought I’d place it at the end here in case someone should dose off half way. But I promised an Adirond@ck story so here it is:

I had been trying to broach the subject of leaving a day early so we didn’t have to rush a 14 hour trip in one day for many reasons. Most obvious was the chance for free continental breakfast or (gasp) room service that would so be worth the $20 (my treat, I gots the credit card). There was also the fact that the toilet had become inoperable the old fashion way and became what was known as a “camp toilet” in the MLG household. I tried to act like it made sense to pour water into a toilet to make it flush but really it was beyond me. And the word camp just stressed me out. My plan was not to pee. Then there was the return of MLG’s Gout and the hour trip to the drug store for meds and poor MLG’s stomach side effects that he said he recalled being short lived. I knew better. He was out of commission for a couple days. Better to have a nice relaxing trip with plenty of desperate bathroom breaks then rushing and plenty of desperate bathroom breaks. MLG said he’d think about it. Didn’t want to upset his folks. We were having lunch at the kitchen counter on our last day and MLG’s mom brought up that maybe we should get an early start and leave that evening. I said, “that sounds like a great idea.” MLG agreed. We had the car packed in ½ hour. Just a bit of final exploring and dinner and we’d be off.

MLG insisted on a final hike to a secluded lake that he visited as a kid. He was very ill and said on the way back to the car he wanted to throw up. Does “city girl” not mean anything to him. I wouldn’t even sit down at the lake. I’ve had enough bouts of spiders to know to stand and watch the freaking sand around me. I still felt he’d done the hike for me.

MLG was still not feeling well during dinner and was developing a headache he thought from lack of caffeine (he was drinking ginger ale to curtail nausea). There’s a longer dinner story but I’ll skip it for times sake.

We got on the road around six pm. Around seven pm on the outskirts of the Adirond@ck Mountains we heard this poof sound and hobbling of the tire. We looked at each other in bewilderment and pulled the car to the side. Flat tire. Completely flat. MLG had a donut tire but no jack. I had him call 911. He was getting a little spacey from being ill and couldn’t quite get the number 911 to work. He was just standing there not knowing what to do. I started getting pissed that no one was pulling over to help. I even said, “if this was in NC someone would have stopped by now, especially considering me.” Well, they would, I could maybe lose the giant yellow Adirond@ck sweatshirt I bought to negate the Artic chills and show some leg but still some body with Billy or Bob in their name would have pulled his pickup truck over to help within 5 or 10 minutes.

A man on a bicycle was headed our way and for some reason this made us really excited. Like HE'D have a tire jack on him or something. He was more lightheaded than MLG and was making small talk while I was pouting over Yankee rudeness when a sheriff’s car past from the opposite direction. I stood up and waved my arms and thank god he turned back around.

He offered up a jack and MLG tried to change the tire. He broke into a sweat and turned a not-so-healthy olive green. I, never having touched a tire without soap on a sponge, proceeded to change the tire according to MLG’s verbal instructions. The sheriff saw that MLG was green and I was being the slowest tire changer in the North and helped us finish the tire change.

He gave MLG instructions to the nearest Walmart, who’d be open latest to purchase a tire. We could still get to Walmart, get the tire changed, and get back on the road only short an hour or two.

Into town MLG gets on the phone with his partner who wasn’t deterred by the gout or the flat tire to wait and hour or so past said crisis to flood MLG with huge career problems, that couldn’t, I’m sure, be helping his tummy. He’s on the phone with her and simultaneously giving me driving instructions and we miss the turn to Walmart, though I didn’t know, when he got off the phone he remarked, “How did you like that nice big circle we drove in?” What circle? There was a circle?

We get to Walmart at 8:10. The tire center closed at 8 pm. If we hadn’t missed the turn we would have gotten there on time. I wasn’t mad but I was declaring the need for junkfood. I almost made it in Walmart, like I could eat more than a small bag of M&Ms in front of MLG or something, don’t know what I was thinking, when MLG said we should try for the "Thru Way," some magical place where tire stores stay open late, at least according to the guy who answers the phone at Sears.

MLG asks the police man in the Walmart parking lot the closest route to the Thru-way and tells me that’s not the closest way and proceeds the opposite way that has more freaking signs to the Adirond@ck. I tried to calm myself that we were now losing time. MLG grew up here, he knows what he’s doing. If he just had a map so I could see where we were going. Trust issues, you know. But I kept my cool somehow, put all those Dr Philisms to good use and didn’t freak out. Sure enough there was the Thru-Way and 10 minutes later was the stop we wanted but of course the garage was closed. And honestly it didn’t look like they’d be much help.

Damn Sears.

Not to mention the thousands upon thousands (ok, like 10) closed tire places we past all the way.

MLG insisted the tire would be fine to drive until we got tired and we’d get up first thing and get the tire replaced.

Stressful day but we made it through and we closer than ever afterwards.

Ze Plan

Well bummer, comments are down. No new diet advice, who will I argue with?

Just kidding. Well no, I mean, the comments are down.

My vacation was great. I could not have asked it to be better. It would have been nice to sit outside without worrying if a granddaddy long leg was going to attack me but other than that have I mentioned I make kick ass s’mores. I can roast a marshmallow to perfection.

It was fun, I think his parents liked me, and I liked them, the place was small, but it was fine, the mountains are beautiful, the lakes spectacular (glacier even). The food was good, sleeping in a full bed was fine, MLG never got on my nerves, nor me his (that I can tell), we survived a flat tire in the middle of nowhere (with no jack). Maybe I’ll tell that story tomorrow.

But for now, since I have very little time, I wanted to briefly go over my plan.

Yes, I have a plan. Insert trumpet sounds.

I have 8 weeks until Halloween (why I picked Halloween I have no idea) and oh about 15 pounds to lose (more on that tomorrow), so that’s 2 pounds a week (long shot, right, I know you’re thinking it).

1200 calories a day (anywhere in the 1200 calories including 1299 calories is fine and I won’t freak if it’s 1300 or low 1400s on occasion – just like the old plan)

Exercise at least 5 days a week (which pretty much means 5 days a week unless I get inspired). I’ve decided to work out right after work, right home and in workout clothes on the treadmill, get it over with right away)

That’s it. Nothing complicated.

And I’ve told MLG I was going on a diet and not to ask me for icecream or pizza or stuff like that and he agreed to help me.

So yeah, that’s it, now I gotta go back to work.