Add Two Pounds of Water Weight, Subtract Two Pounds of Fat, Add Two Pounds of Muscle and What Do You Get?

A rather disappointing 5 ounce weight gain for the week.  Now, I am certain the red velvet chocolate cheesecake slice I devoured the day before had NOTHING to do with it!!  To make fatty matters worse, I let loose a disquieting quief during my workout with the trainer.  Had my legs up in the air doing some God-awful move intended to exorcise the fatty demons from my body.  I felt the air pressure build up down (up) in my nether regions like a black hole sucking in everything in its path.  And then - "splert!"  Oh well, at least I didn't fart!

The Eyes Have It...

Satan's bride, Frankenstein's widow, etc. etc., and that's being kind.  I looked and felt like some slithering, goo-seeping monster all weekend.  The upside was I think I lost weight due to my hideousness.  Couldn't go to a fatting party so I stayed home and watched horror movies that starred creatures whom I closely resembled.  Now I can say my eyes are nearly back to "normal" and my appetite has returned - for celery, carrots, and broccoli.  :-)

She's Got Rosemary's Baby's Eyes.....

I'm sick this weekend.  Not physically sick, although both my eyes reacted badly to eye makeup I slathered on them.  Swelled, red, blurry, and weepy - and I'm not talking about my ex-boyfriend's mother here.  I didn't have and appetite all weekend and I think I lost a couple of pounds.  Missed a lovely company function but I wanted them to retain their appetites and the contents of their stomachs.  Now, the eye pain is waning and my stomach is growling again.  Celery - here I come!

The Last Temptation of....Christ, I'm Hungry!

I took my daughter out to dinner tonight and she ordered a pizza with caramelized onions and some fancy sausage.  I ordered a flank steak with a medley of cruciferous veggies.  Which do you think I salivated for?  If you said "pistachio ice cream," you'd be right.  Creamy, delicious, sort of Kermit the Frog green mouthfuls of deliciousness.  No salivating for pizza, fries, or even a glass of wine.  Just silky smooth ice cream.  Did my temptation rule the day?  I ate one spoonful and that was enough to satiate me.  I think this diet is working!

The Smell of Victory

Lost another 2 lbs!!  (doing the old Ally McBeal baby dance)  Here's the catch - I ate pizza, French fries, and chocolate cake for my birthday yesterday.  WHAT!?!?!?  So that means I probably lost 3lbs before the pigfest.  This OptiFast diet is getting easier and more natural.  I'm starting to see differences in my hips, legs, arms and face.  I'm feeling better and started to sleep well again.  I'm exercising almost every day and, I admit, begrudgingly of course, that working out is essential to sustained weight loss.  In other words - "I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty, and witty, and....you get the drift.

She Came in Through the Bathroom Window....

A very large and hairy spider who, I swore, wore John Lennon glasses and carried a first edition of Charlotte's Web strapped to one of her many legs.  I thought I also could hear her whistling Beethoven's Fifth Symphony in the key of C.  She made herself a comfortable home near the window sill and I swear I could smell a cherry pie baking.  There she sat in a rocking chair, knitting, while I contemplated which celery stick I would gnaw on.   This diet is wreaking havoc with my mind!

What NOT to do at a Farmers Market When You're Trying to Lose Weight

(1) Attend with someone who's a size 0
(2) Caress cantaloupe melons unless you've paid for them
(3) Growl at a Crepe vendor
(4) Carry a purse overflowing with ready-to-spend cash
(5) Secretly tell yourself pupusas are baby caterpillars and, thus, have zero calories and are high in protein
(6) Convince yourself samples have negative calories
(7) Attend with a child who constantly begs you for a triple drip chocolate/banana/caramel ice cream cone

Friday the 16th

Shall I say it?  Hockey mask.  Group of drunken teenagers skinny dipping.  Lot of very large cutlery (preferably Wusthof).  Freakin' evil mother.  Ok, none of these things reared their ugly little heads in my life today, but I still felt...off.  Off at work, off in health, off in general.  Maybe tomorrow someone will call me.  "Do you like scary movies, Casey?"

My Stomach - The Sensitive Cannibal

Last night my stomach bemoaned its incredibly shrinking proportions for the better part of EIGHT HOURS.  Unfortunately for me, those eight hours occurred between 10pm and 6am, when my lovely usually enjoys some beauty sleep.  I drank water - rejected outright.  I downed an OptiFast drink - turned into a gaseous cauldron of toxic fumes.  Stuffed some pita bread down my gullet - switched over to grinding and, possibly, gnashing.  Then out of the relative darkness of my bedroom, came a sound so terrifying, I thought Hell had frozen over and the horny red man himself was coming for me.  It was munching, chewing, and screaming - sort of like Jabba the Hutt at his noontime feeding.  My stomach was devouring itself.  Little piranha Pacmen savoring each tasty bit.   Needless to say, I felt justified in downing some tuna fish and a bit of carrot.  The tuna won.  :-)

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Beam Me Up, Scotty

I'm a Star Trek fan but this is no line from the series.  It's a shot - an AMAZING shot.  1/2 ounce Kahlua, 1/2 Irish cream, 1/2 banana liqueur.  Too bad I can only dream about it which is what I did last night.  I was swimming in a vat of this stuff, luxuriating in it.  I've had the most unusual dreams while on this OptiFast diet.  I almost don't want to wake up in the morning.

Dog Breath Afternoon

A surefire way to get one's mind off of any deprivation diet is to take one's cat to the veterinarian.  The sheer horror of this experience will cause one to expend thousands of calories through blood, sweat, and tears, as well as erode any appetite one might have had.  The shrieking alone is enough to shut down one's digestive system.  By shrieking - I mean bowels of the earth, rotating of the head, pea soup spewing howls.  The kind only special effects can produce.  This, in addition, to the frenzied licking of unmentionables in the presence of strangers is enough to quell anyone's appetite.  Cats are not meant to be transported anywhere but to Hell in a hand basket.  And dogs - well - suck on a mint, will ya???

Wonder Bread - The Other White Meat

Okay - so I cheated over the weekend.  One lousy piece of white, crusty bread.  ONE LOUSY PIECE.  And what does my stomach become, you might ask?  The Hindenburg - at the exact micro second it went up in flames and became a giant loaf of burning embers.  My gut is the size of a pregnant woman who's 6 months overdue.  The piece of bread is floating around in my tummy like a sea sponge soaking up every molecule of liquid.  Needless to say, I couldn't resist a second slice.  :-)

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Sunday used to be days for relaxation, introspection, and a Bloody Mary.  Post-diet, Sundays are days for relaxation, introspection and no bloody Bloody Mary.  No vodka, no tomato juice, no nothing.  Maybe if I mix Tabasco with some ginger ale and stick a stalk of celery in it, it might pass.  Probably, not.  I'm going go listen to some U2.

Attack of the Killer Kiddie Meal

So I took my daughter out to lunch today to cap off a rather lovely day of frivolous shopping.  This was a test and I knew it.  To be able to withstand the temptation of a kiddie meal - replete with chocolate milk and a grilled cheese sandwich.  Did I endure the torture?  Yes, I did.  I chomped on my shrimp, tomato, and red pepper salad, secretly wanting to deprive my only child of the only joy she's known since I went "under" on this diet.  I resisted my depraved cravings just long enough to swig an entire carafe of lemon water to quell the longing.  When I paid the bill, my child looked up lovingly at me and said she still was hungry.  Is there no humanity????

Slush Puppies and Other Cruciferous Vegetables

I grew up on Slush Puppies.  You know those delicious shaved ice snow cones with coated sugary syrup.  My favorites were cherry and peach.  I haven't had one in 25 years, though.  Just never had a craving - until last night.  I craved a gigantic sour green apple Slush Puppy with two enormous straws.  One straw for me and the other straw for Sean Connery.  This diet is messing with my mind.  Two nights ago - a Smurf, and last night - a Slush Puppy.  What's next - the Jolly Green Giant?

Blue Meanies, Small Wienies

Last night I dreamt a Smurf mugged me.  Left an awful blue stain on my clothes and stole the hot dog I was about to stuff into my mouth.  Not just any wiener, but a Hebrew National in a freshly-made whole wheat bun, with sauerkraut, mustard, and onions.  I ran after the meanie, but he disappeared into a sea of Milk of Magnesia.  Now, I understand why I dreamt of food and the laxative, but a Smurf?  What is this diet doing to me????

Fat is a La-Z-Boy Rocker

I utterly detest exercising.  In fact, two years ago I made a pact with myself never to exercise again.  No jogging, no Austrian hiking movements on the elliptical - NOTHING.  I gained eight pounds in eight months.  You see, fat is a La-Z-Boy rocker.  It's comfortable.  It's cushy.  It warms you on a cold winter's night.  It swishes around inside of you and makes you want to kick off your shoes and take a nap.  It makes you LAZY.  After a while, you don't want to move; just lie there in your fatty pants and watch your boobs become the size of beach balls.  When you try to move, your fat calls for reinforcements to quash that rebellion.  Headaches, tummy aches, dizziness.  All intended to get you back on your ass in La-Z Boy hell.

Well, I'm happy to say, my fat army will be defeated.  I see those little fighters shake and shiver every time I work out.  Soon, they will surrender and I'll trade in my rocker for a sleek Lucite chair.  May not be cushy, but it'll look hot. 

Nice Rack!

I actually had a sweaty construction guy lob this "compliment" at me from where he was doing something with his hands that involved wood this morning.  I phrased the sentence that way because I couldn't see his hands, so I'm unsure what "wood" he was pounding (so to speak).  Regardless of the source, I was flattered in a "I need some Lysol" kind of way, but I'll take the compliments as they cum...er come. 

Lost Weekend

I had one of those weekends where, at the end of it, you reflect and wonder what the hell you did for those two days.  See, I used to indulge on weekends.  A croissant here, a Starbucks Frappuccino there.  Maybe even brunch at a local café.    Now I'm relegated to a cherry tomato here, a broccoli stem there.  It just isn't the same.   Will I ever be able to eat crap again?  Probably not - not on a regular basis, at least.  But a girl can dream, can't she?

Candy Crush Saga Dependency

Here I am on a no candy (you name it) diet, and now I'm obsessed with a Facebook app called Candy Crush Saga.  Instead of matching the types of candies and eliminating the "jellies," I dream I'm eating all the similar confections.  Just another way my subconscious is fucking with me!!!

To Russian Dressing With Love.....

I was watching the classic Bond film for only the 1000th time when,suddenly, I had an urge to nibble on a salad.   On OptiFast, I really don't drench my lettuce in anything but desperation.  However, tonight I spied a solitary glass bottle, huddled near the back of my stainless steel KitchenAid French door, bottom mount.  Almost frozen and separated from the rest of the salad dressings, it sat there regally displaying its label.  Wish-Bone Russian Dressing - "only 6 grams of fat."  I hastily shook it until the contents blended, then opened the bottle to the fresh aroma of lemon, vinegar, paprika, and onions.  There's nothing better than some Russian in my salad.

Well, Whad'ya Know....

Another good week at weight loss.  Lost 8 pounds in one month.  However, I feel half of that came from my brain cells.  I can feel my intelligence slowly seeping out of my pours when I work out.  So, I guess, the question is - do I want to beautiful but dumb or intelligent and just striking????????  I'll get back to you on that.

Holy Slut of a Day, Batman!

Every day I'm alive is a great day; that's for sure.  I wake up every morning knowing this may be my last day on earth.  No one knows what fate has in store for them or what twists and turn await.  Today was different.  I didn't want to wake up.  In fact, I begged the God of all that is Decedent to keep me smack dab in the middle of the greatest orgy I've ever dreamt.  I'm unable to adequately describe it on paper.  In fact, I'm still trembling from the after shocks.   Suffice to say, there were bodies, fried chicken, and lots of some type of lubricant. Screw the diet  - give me a fat, cheesy orgy topped with whipped cream.    

Fat Jokes

 

 

 

 

[insert my name] was so fat when she stepped on the scale it said, "To be continued."

 

[insert my name] was so fat, she couldn't jump to a conclusion.

 

[insert my name] butt is so big, she got stopped at the airport for having 200 pounds of crack!

 

Get the drift?  It's not been a good day, to say the very least. 

 

As Forrest Gump once said, "Fat is what fat does."  Or something like that.  'Nuff said.