Cheeseburger Sliders & Social Evenings

Mood: Happy!
Listenting To: Mark & Brian in the Morning

For some time, I was dedicated to Herbalife protein shakes. They were pretty yummy, a lot of protein packed into one punch and a good meal replacement, but I never actually saw any results from them. I drank them religiously, worked out a LOT but also ate a whole bunch of mac ‘n cheese. I ended up stopping the protein shakes, in which I still have half a container sitting on top of my fridge. It was good while it lasted, but it costs a lot of money and the sales rep was just as sales rep, no matter how many times she said the word “nutrition”.

But one piece of advice she did give me, which I found myself doing last night, stuck with me. Eat something high in protein before you go out and it will help control your appetite.

You see, I found myself at a social event last night at a very familiar place in Culver City. I had been there before, and I was even the person who suggested the place, so I was totally familiar with their food. Being the good little dieter I am, I looked at the menu earlier in the day and decided on what I was going to order – the turkey meatloaf with the 2 veggies and mashed ‘taters. (I ALMOST love mashed ‘taters as much as I love mac ‘n cheese) It helped knowing ahead of time that the mac ‘n cheese at this place left a lot to be desired. If you’re gonna go the mac ‘n cheese route – it’s gotta be worth it.

When I got home, I got ready as usual and was pretty set on what I had planned on ordering. I had looked up the calorie counts, rehearsed in my head how I would only eat half of it and decided to eat a protein bar before I went. I have to say, it was a pretty delicious little bar. As I sat there, chewing away, I thought to myself that I could almost fool myself into thinking it was a candy bar . . . . almost. Once on my way, I was happy I took the time to do my hair properly and have a protein bar. I felt like I looked great, felt great, had a great plan and was proud I planned ahead with the healthy dose of protein.

I was the first person to arrive, and promptly ordered water, so I had something to occupy my hand. Once everyone was assembled, they took us up to the loft area which was typically reserved for bottle service. We all found our way to places on the couches and that’s when the pre-ordered food began to arrive. Craaaaaaaaap. Totally wasn’t expecting them to pre-order food. I thought this was a DINNER! Rather quickly, I realized it was a social hour. SON-OF-A-B----!!!!

They laid out multiple orders of sliders, a couple of pizzas and something that looked like an egg roll, but was no egg roll. It was loaded with meat and what I’m sure was something full of fat and deliciousness. I knew there wasn’t much on that table that was within my dietary guidelines. As I did my best to be attentive to the conversations, a small panic was going on in my head as these delicious odors kept wafting my way. I should have eaten dinner before I came. I thought we were going to get dinner! GOOD LAWRD!!!! MY PLAN HAS BEEN DESTROYED!!! Okay, no one else is digging in. You can hold out. You don’t want to be the little piglet on the couch chowin’ down on this bounty. Once I had come to terms with that, that’s when the leader of this group said:

“We meant for this to be more of an informal group hour, so let’s take some food, mingle around and get to talking to each other!”

And that’s when it happened. That’s when people started to eat. I scanned the items in front of me, and noticed that the pizza looked like it was thin crust. So, okay, I’ll take ONE slice of pizza – just to be social. It’s a smaller pizza, just a little bigger than a personal size. The calories can’t possibly be that much! I grabbed the slice of pizza and had to momentarily close my eyes and take it all in. All that delicious fat from the cheese – oh my gawd it’s been so long since I’ve had full fat cheese! And it’s nice and chewy. Thin and chewy – just the way I like it. Oh! Here come the pepperonis. Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh that’s SO good! Now, I’m usually not the kind of girl that eats the crust, but this time was the exception.

Okay, I had my slice of pizza, and I’m good! I don’t need any more of this, I can resist and have something stocked away in my fridge when I get home. Gawd that’s a far way away. And I am still hungry. I think the protein bar is helping, but it’s really not doing anything to prevent the HUNGER I am feeling! “Just do it, just dive in and enjoy yourself. You’re here, you’ve already had a slice of pizza. ONE night of yumminess is not going to destroy everything.” Oh, there was that voice in my head. That ID I’ve always had problems with. Gawd my ID and I have been best friends for years. And it has not been good to me . . . . so I scanned the table and waited. Waited for that other little voice to hold me back. “Look, you’re hungry but you can make it through this! You are going to have a lot of these challenges; you need to learn how to deal with them now! One more item! That’s it. That’s all you’re allowed to have on this table – one more item.” Thank gawd that voice finally kicked itself in. I scanned the table, and it came back to what was right in front of me – cheeseburger sliders. Wow those look good. But there are turkey right behind them. I wonder if those turkey sliders are dry. I hate dry sliders. Moist turkey sliders sound kind of gross. And they have BBQ sauce, not the wonderful thousand island dressing with the cheeseburger sliders. If I only get ONE more item on this table, I choose . . . . a cheeseburger slider! Not my highest moment, but dam it, I was going to swim around in that one last item. I put a dollop of dressing on the burger and took my first, wonderful bite. Oh, I didn’t realize it was on a Hawaiian roll! WHO decided to put cheeseburger sliders on a Hawaiian roll??? THEY NEED TO BE SAINTED!!!!!

After I rolled around in the joy of the slider, I remembered how I once read you need to have a signal to yourself that your meal is done. I thought for a minute, what do I always do after I am done eating to tell myself the meal is over? I carefully put my small little plate down, and put my napkin on top of it. That’s was it, it was over.

Lucky for me, we all soon stood up, got away from the food and started socializing. I walked away from that evening feeling triumphant. I had beat an old demon of mine. I felt like I had won a battle, even though I knew this was just the beginning of the war.

Rings and Resolutions

At the beginning of this year, I made a commitment to lose weight and get back in shape. By the end of May, I was still right where I began and huffin’ it up the stairs. Who was I kidding? I like to PRETEND I’m dieting and “exercising”. But then something happened, Brian got down on one knee and asked me to marry him! It was an amazing day, and I found myself only interested in eating lettuce with a splash of lemon juice. Just to be a smart-ass, I officially started telling people I was on the “bridal diet”. The thing is, the diet doesn’t seem to include French fries, chocolate candy bars and big bountiful breakfasts. I spent a few weeks lingering in and out of the place I had fooled myself into, but things started to click.

As soon as my happy-hour buddy Gavin left the city, I found myself less and less interested in drinking. Trips to the epic happy hours on Sunset Blvd. became less and less, and I found myself strangely with more cash on hand. With my new found wealth, I hoofed it over to the local neighborhood gym and started bargaining for a membership.

I had been a member of the same gym for SO LONG that I found myself totally bored with it, and never went. This, I’m pretty sure, is the beginning of the great shake up. As soon as I walked into the gym, there was a DJ spinning, people coming in and out, but to my extreme happiness, the gym was not jam packed and no one seemed to have to wait on cardio machines. As I was getting a tour of the facilities, I started jumping up and down with excitement as soon as I saw reformer Pilates tables! I remembered those tables from when I was in physical therapy for a bum knee, and had been looking for them since. I was SOLD right there and then. They also threw in a free session with a trainer, just for shits and giggles.

I had my first session on the Pilates reformer pretty quickly after that and got by budka handed to me by a very skinny, young girl names Robin who was freshly here from New Yawk. The entire next day I could barely walk, and had trouble straightening out my body, but I managed to get back on that machine for more budka whoopings.

My most recent experience was with the trainer – Tatiana. She was one quick little thing. As soon as I turned my head to wish Brian good luck with his training session, she was half way down the hallway with towels, her water bottle and MY water bottle! Lucky for me, I had worked with a trainer previously, and although she was kicking my budka pretty bad, I was still able to hold my own! Bum knee and all! The next day, I was able to get around just fine, but poor Brian was just about bed ridden. It reminded me of my first session with Robin.

As I’m tossing around ideas of how to afford both of them, I have dedicated myself to eating healthy, and eating often. For the last two days, I was able to stay on my calorie count and counted EVERYTHING that has entered my mouth. With the help of Hungry Girl (http://www.hungry-girl.com/) I’ve been able to cook some pretty yummy meals and stay within my guidelines! I gotta say, the bitch knows that she’s doing! I signed up for her daily newsletter, but I have to be honest and say I still have yet to actually read one. It’s on my to-do list, swear.

It seems like this time around, something has for sure clicked. 5 pounds a month is my goal, and it totally attainable. I just really hope this clicking stays around. I’m a little nervous about the next time someone mentions BBQ . . . . .

White Socks and Mirrors

Weight: Less than the last blog, not sure how much.
Mood: Mellow
Listening To: Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares on BBC

I'm not sure if I had mentioned it before, but I used to be a dancer. I used to be an amazing dancer, to be exact. So good that I once broke my toe in an audition, and I still got the part. Although, my toe still gives me trouble to this day. When I moved to Los Angeles, my studies got focused on academics and I never did find a studio in the area. 12 years later, I finally found a studio, where I was standing, staring at myself in the mirror and all I could see were my white socks.

So on this weight loss adventure, I've been trying to find alternatives to the gym that I absolutely loathe. I've been stuck on this plateau for awhile now, and decided I would load up on a variety of cardio classes. I still have my trainer, which is now the only reason I even step into a gym now-a-days, I've joined a boot camp that meets up once a week and I found a dance studio for adults.

The first day at the studio, I was nervous. I wore something that was a shadow of the dance pants and little sexy tops I used to wear. In fact, it came no where near that. Short yoga pants and a t-shirt. Yup, that'll do it. And you know what, I don't have dance shoes any more. I wonder what this is going to be like with no dance shoes. The website said we can do bare feet, right? Well, that's what I remember. Ugh, I can hear the base pumping from the class before mine. Strange how it's calling to me. I wonder if I will be any good any more. I have to still have some talent, right? Well, here goes nothin'.

As I entered into the studio, I noticed something strange. A black, rubber like dance floor. Huh. Last I remember dance floors were polished wood. I must be seriously out of the loop on new dance methods. I put my things into a cubby and said hi to the teacher that little did I know was going to hand me my ass on a black rubber floor. She was this tiny little Russian girl with a big smile. She welcomed me to class and I warned her it had been 12 years since my last class. She said not to worry - I'll pick it right back up. Suuuuuuurrrre.

The warm ups were a clear demonstration on how incredibly inflexible I have become, and how many of the moves I have seriously forgotten about. As I stood there, trying to keep up, I looked at myself in the mirror and have come to realize that my mirror at home lies to me. When I look at myself in the mirror at home and ask it "Mirror, mirror on the wall, is my ass any smaller than it was before?" It responds with a kind "Your waist is a little thinner, and look at your ass - nice and round. Men love that." However, the mirror at the dance studio - it was not as kind. It said, no YELLED, "You are no where near as skinny as you used to be. In fact, I think you're the biggest girl in the class, and that bright pink shirt you're wearing doesn't help. Neither do those capri yoga pants. Just makes your calves look huge. You see the girls over there? That would be a goal, wouldn't it? You see the skinny little Russian girl teaching the class? Remember being that size? Don't you miss it? Stop looking at her, you're just killing your self esteem. Look at the girls over there. Start with that."

I attempted to keep up with the dance routine she taught, which sealed the deal of this little Russian girl handing me my ass. There were times I just had to laugh at myself. As I walked out of there, realizing that I have lost most of my skill, I also realized that I had an amazing cardio workout - so hell yes, I would be returning.

The time for the next class came around, and before I walked out of the house for class, I remembered the conversation I had with the mirror in the studio. Today, I was going to win that conversation. That mirror was going to tell me I look good! So I threw on my new UCLA yoga pants - not capri's. They were a sexy Vicky's Secret cut with a sparkly Bruin Bear in just the right spot. Then a black wife beater to compliment the dark grey and blue band in the pants. Yeah, I was ready to go! And this time, I was wearing socks! Having bare feet on that dance floor just about killed me. So, sexy outfit on and something on my feet - here I come you stupid mirror! Watch out!

I walked into that dance studio and was greeted by the instructor. I decided to stand in the back of the studio - a new move on my part. I was no one to watch for what to do next at this point and I needed someone to watch when this little Russian girl walked around class to check on all of us. I stood there, waiting for class to begin, and I looked in the mirror, afraid of the conversation I was about to have with that mirror. "Not too bad." it said to me. "You still need to concentrate on the weight loss, I can't lie, but today, the clothes are making the difference. You've definitely lost some weight here, and there. But I think you need to keep coming back. There is one thing, though . . . . " While I looked myself up and down in the mirror and loved how I was rockin the outfit, the only thing that really stood out were the bright, white socks I was rockin on my feet. Damn it!

I got my ass handed to me again that day, and loved every minute of it, even if I was wearing bright white socks. As I walked out of the studio, I wondered if I would be able to find some black socks over the weekend.

Protien Shakes and Do-Overs

Weight: 22.4 lbs lighter
Mood: Pretty good!
Listening To: Clumsy by Fergie



Remember when you were a kid and during any game you could call "Do over!" whenever you didn't like the outcome and everyone would repeat the play? What was amazing about the do-over, what we never really realized, is that no one ever challenged it. It was a widely-accepted rule among all of us, and at some point during our process of growing up, the do-over became invalid. During the past few months, I have been trying to call "Do over!" on this whole weight loss thing. As you can see in the dates between entries, I haven't really lost that much weight and it's taken me awhile to figure out why.



As much as I appreciated Weight Watchers for the first 20 pounds, the meetings were no longer cathartic. It was just a bunch of old ladies sitting around trying to figure out new ways to fit as much food as possible into the points they had been allotted. With that, I stepped out of my last meeting, knowing I would not be returning. It took me two months to accept that I had let go, and cancel my membership.



Then I realized something about myself, I need a gimmick. God has blessed me with a very short attention span, one that gets bored incredibly easy. I remembered some of my girlfriends talking about this Herbalife weight loss program, which was successful for them. I approached the whole thing knowing they were going to try to sell me, and I refuse to be sold. I'm too knowledgeable for that and I have used all of the sales tricks myself.



I met with the rep, who was very touchy-feely from the get-go. Wanting to hug, touching my arm, smiling and repeating things like "Love it, love it!" Good thing it was a girl. If it was a guy, I probably would have walked out. I don't know you! Stop touching me!



I've been rather judicious with what I've purchased, but it hasn't been as bad as I anticipated. Sure, I really haven't lost any weight with them, but I have noticed a few changes. One thing I that I have always agonized over are my more than unusual weak nails. I could never grow them out because they always split and broke, and I've always been able to bend them with no pain. In the two months I've been slurping up these protein shakes, my nails have stopped splitting and breaking and are the longest I've ever had them. Genius! Also with the help of my rep, my diet is slowly changing for the better and I'm working up that mental muscle of self control. Hebalife is no magic bullet, but it has been helping me make some changes. Sure as hell slowly, but surely.



I also realized that I'm totally bored with the gym and I don't want to play anymore! So I've been trying to vary my activities, like climbing the steps at Baldwin Hills that kill me almost every time. And I signed up for a dance class. A pole dancing class, to be exact. There are only a few girls in the class, taught by a rather talented stripper, in a nicely dark-lit room. You know what happened when I started learning those tricks on that pole? I remembered what it was like to feel sexy.



When I was a performance dancer in school, I was skinny, strong, sexy, and I knew it and loved it. I constantly teased the boys, went through them one by one and had a great time doing it. I had lost that spark years before the weight gain, right when I stopped dancing. It started to bubble back up when I felt my hand grab that pole, threw my weight to one side and spun myself around. I just knew I had to find that place again. So what if it was found in a darkly lit room with my eyes closed, dancing in high heels. I needed to get back to me! So I signed up for more.



So with my pole dancing classes, new activities of hiking and stair climbing, I'm calling "DO OVER!" with a protein shake in my hand.

Cheetos and Noodles

Weight: 21-something lbs lighter
Mood: Bloated
Listening To: Dancing With the Stars

Not long ago I met someone who is a member of Overeater's Anonymous. It was a rather interesting treat for me because I had never met anyone from OA before and he told me that his triggers were sugar and something else. This made me begin to wonder about my delectable affair with sugar, myself. After a few hours of wondering about it, I managed to put it out of my head until I was on the ride home tonight from a parent's night at one of my high schools.

You see, I had been doing rather well on my diet and work out up until the weekend with the Aussies. I mean dam can those people drink and eat and somehow, someway stay skinny . . . . I forced Brian to leave the party at 1am, but they were still in full swing - almost like they had just been warming up the entire day and most of the evening. Oye.

Well, I kinda let myself go that weekend. I told my trainer I wasn't going to work out Friday - Sunday because I could tell I was getting exhausted and needed a break. (It's now Tuesday and I have yet to get on an elliptical)So my trainer kicked my ass on Thursday like it had never been kicked before and I was out the door, shaking and almost in tears. Looking back on the weekend, I really didn't do THAT bad. I had some healthy choice mixed in with some bad choices. It's not like I went crazy and sucked on bacon all day, every day. Sure, the 10 or so drinks I poured down my throat might not have been a good idea, but that's cool. I was just tryin' to keep up. Now that I'm back in town, it's back on track, right?? Oh, so wrong . . .

It started when Brian DRAGGED me to Taco Bell to try the black tacos. (Rating = neh . . . ) I told him - last fatty meal, okay?? I knew I was lying when I said it . . . . then today happened. Breakfast wasn't all that bad. Lunch wasn't all that bad . . . then I made it to the college campus, where I was going to make camp for 3 or so hours before the parent's night at the High School. As soon as I pulled into campus, I heard them . . . .

"Hey . . . . hhheeeeeyyy . . . Did you forget about us?? We're in the student store, still. We're still waiting for you. Little cups of peanut butter hugged in chocolate. One or two bites won't hurt you, you know. We're still here and you have cash in your pocket. You won't even have to use your card!" I tried to fight it, I tried to ignore it but the voice just grew louder the closer I got to the student store, and hey - my office is right next to the student store. It's true, one or two can't hurt. Before I knew it, I had three little wrappers sitting on the desk in front of me as I was checking my farm on facebook.

My boss had to shut the office down earlier than I expected, so I went down to the information desk to hang out with the students who work down there. On my way down, I heard a different little voice. "Hey . . . . hhhheeeyyyy . . . . remember us, Mr. flamin' hot cheetos? Remember when you first started working here and you pulled some shifts at the info desk and we first met? Yeah, it was pretty memorable for me, too. You know we haven't talked in a long time and I heard you were going to be visiting me soon. Do you have any idea when that will be, because, well, I miss you." I tried to tell that little voice that I had one and a half more pounds left before we could sit down and visit and this is what it told me: "That's taking too long. I think you should just give it up and come and have a visit. You know you will eventually get there, but I want to visit now." As I rounded the corner of the information desk, I saw it. I saw what was going to make me break and the voice said to me "Oh, I see you haven't met my sister Miss BAKED flamin' hot cheetos. I think you two should meet." The next thing I knew. I was wiping bright orange powder from my hands and catching a look at the cookies my co-worker had brought with her. By then, any sense of reason was gone and as soon as a voice in my head said "Those look good!" another voice said "You have another dollar in your pocket."

There was more debauchery that surrounds the evenings gluttonous behavior, and as I was driving myself home I was reminiscing about all of the crap that I had put into my body and certain phrases like "You spend way too much money on a trainer to do this." and "You do way too much work with your trainer to revert back to this" and "You know you're not going to reach your goal. You need food with nutrition!" I began to think about eating real food. Food with some substance to it and I remembered this amazing noodle dish I got from Mao's kitchen a few days before and 'accidently' left the leftovers behind . . . . I started to actually taste it in my mouth, feel the noodles run over my tongue and the sponginess of the eggs. Then I debated whether or not to take Brian out to dinner that night "just because."

An Open Letter to Myself

Dear Self:

We need to talk. You know this has been a long time coming. You didn't really think you would get away with all those trips to the candy store for long, did you? I totally understand that losing weight is no easy task, but let's face it - you've gotten a little off track and we need to get this crazy train back to where it belongs before you are back to where you started. I'll give you this - you're amazing at maintaining your weight. With all the candy bars, coffees and things fried you've managed not to gain anything back . . . . . yet. But let's be serious - you're still a little fatty around the curves and that just won't do.

This all really began with the college, didn't it? You totally forgot what undergrad was like. The undergrad where you gained 15 pounds, but hell you could have stood to gain some at that point. That trip was filled with top ramen, Swanson dinners and my personal favorite, rice-a-roni. This new trip around the undergrad block? Well, it's been filled with Reeses peanut butter cups, flamin' hot cheetos and countless numbers of coffee well diluted in half and half. Oh, and the occasional cookie.

Remember that day when the candy first came to you? You had been doing so well; you were off your first plateau and on your way to your goal. Then she did it. That new boss of yours, bless her heart, opted for ice breakers to get everyone to know each other. All of which seemed to involve candy. Now, we both know you have issues when it comes to candy. We both know you can't control your hands. The best thing would have been to sit on them and push yours to the side. Instead . . . . you ate all of yours . . . . and your neighbors . . . . and then dove into the bucket full of candy until you found yourself surrounded by tiny little wrappers, lost in what everyone was talking about and wondering how to hide the evidence.

But it didn't stop there, did it. The co-worker of yours that reminds you of Mari, yeah, she showed you where to get MORE candy. The smart thing would have been to say no thank you and never even look in the spot. But you didn't do that, did you? You clicked your heels three times and said "There's nothing like candy, there's nothing like candy." And you were brought to the candy. Each individually wrapped and in deceivingly small servings. Each perfectly sweet, charming piece of candy was your new buffet. This was the beginning of that downhill spiral.

You've been all over the map since then, haven't you? Scoffing in the face of fat and calories and daring them to a fight. Well, you've officially stopped winning; I just thought I should let you know. You were ALMOST on belt loop 4 . . . . well, now that's starting to get tight. So you are officially on lock down. No more fried foods. No more candy. No more fatty foods. This affair of yours, it's over.

You're getting back on the workout track and here is what we have to address straight out - I know you hate the elliptical downstairs. You really gave it its fair shot in liking it, and really it's the only one you've ever felt real hatred for. And you know what? That's ruining your groove thing. You are going to have to learn to put up with it at least twice a week. No exceptions. We both know you are not going to leave the comfort of your apartment to get in your car and drive to the gym, so you might as well make friendly with the elliptical downstairs.

Oh, and every little thing you put in your mouth will be counted. You are paying way too much money for that trainer of yours to not count every little thing. Every french fry you steal every candy bar you say "Oh, well, this is small, it really won't count." Guess what, it does now.

You will reach your goal in February. You will be a skinny bitch once more. And to show I'm not a bad guy - I'll even throw in the fair at no extra . . . . well . . . let's just say I won't be that much of a bitch about it. But past that, welcome to your new hell. So pull up a chair, or should I say elliptical machine, and stay awhile because if I have anything to do with it, which I now will, you will be a skinny bitch.......

Panties and Chocolates

Weight: 19.6lbs lighter
Mood: So Frustrated I Could Cry
Listening To: Money Fly Out of My Pocket and the Maintenance Guys Fixing My Air Conditioner

This past week, I worked every day at the college where I now have a part-time job. Since it was the first week of school, the hours were really full time and I worked in the sweltering heat of the valley, at times with no air conditioning. I kind of got screwed on my hours, working 10:30 - 7:30, leaving no time to really work out or to spend with Brian, considering the hour drive there and back in okay traffic. Since the week was so hectic, my feet hurt and I developed this kink in my neck, which meant I could no longer turn my head to the right, I made an appointment at the spa to relax and recover. Brian had just as hard of a week, so I also decided to surprise him with an appointment for a massage, too.

The alarm went off early in the morning today, but not too early as to be devastating. By now Brian knew where we were going, and he returned from an early morning workout so we could get on our way. I declined the breakfast sandwich he was making because working at the college had made it so I had eaten all sorts of crap and had practically fallen off of the wagon. I reeeealllly needed to get back on track. So I had my weight watchers frozen sandwich and a glass of milk. We checked into the spa, and when I went to my locker I discovered it was a lower half locker. As I walked back to the front desk to request a full locker, I wondered why they would give out half lockers on a day where practically no one was there. I didn't really think much more of it when they handed me a key to a full locker with a smile. I took some time and rested in the Jacuzzi, looking forward to the 80 minute massage I was about to get.

When the clock hit 11:30, I met with my would-be therapist and thought she had a little bit of a strange vibe, but whatever, I just hope she's good! I went over with her things that were bothering me - I have this kink in my neck to where when I turn my head right it hurts. Where is it? Oh, it runs right along here. My lower back also hurts when I lay on my belly. Not sure why, but it always does. Yes, I do have a curved back. Oh, and I've been working out a lot so my feet have really been hurting me. As I laid down on the table and felt my lower back cramp, I couldn't wait to get started. She really dug into my neck and shoulder to work out that kink. I can't lie, it felt great. I can't wait until she gets to my lower back.......huh......does she think that's my lower back? That's more like my middle back. This is a reputable place; she has to know that's not considered the lower back. I'll just wait and be patient. What's that you say? Time to flip over? Huh. Well, I guess you do think you hit the lower back area, unless you have some other tricks up your sleeve. I at least hope you do some foot work because I've been dying for it. Oh, yup, there's my foot! And there it went. That's all the work you are going to do? Really? Can't be. I mean, really, it can't. What's that? The massage is over? Well, I guess it can be. Yeah, you were great.....really.

While I sat in the Jacuzzi again, letting the bubbles run over my skin, I tried not to get totally frustrated when I thought about the two spots she missed, that I really wanted her to work on, and the almost $200 it cost me. I mean, really, the massage was really good. In all, I enjoyed it. I can always go to the local massage place and drop $60 for an hour massage to get those areas worked on. Didn't really plan for that, though. But overall the massage was good and I am relaxed. I could nap right now.

Once I paid the bill and met up with Brian, I suggested we go to lunch because I was starving. We sat down at a local deli and I passed up on the sandwiches and pasta for a cup of veggie soup and a Chinese chicken salad, tossed please. The veggie soup came and it was good, with the exception of the mushrooms I had to pick out of it. I've never known anyone to put mushrooms in a veggie soup, but to each their own. Huh, no crackers.....just as well. It would just me extra points that I don't need. Ah, there is my salad. Huh, doesn't look like it's tossed. No matter, it's still edible. Huh, that bite didn't have any dressing on it. Well, there has to be dressing somewhere. Nope, not there. Oh, piece of chicken, I'll give that a bite while I search for the dressing. Oh crap, that was a bite of cartilage! GROSS! I'm spitting that out, sorry for the grossness Brian. Still not finding any dressing in here. Where the hell is the waiter? Um, I'm sorry sir but there is no dressing on the salad. Do I want a side of it? I just want dressing on the salad, so fix it. Hmmmm.....I'll eat some of Brian's fries while I wait. Gawd I've had a lot of fries. I need to create a barricade with the water. Ah, there is my salad and this time, I can smell the dressing on it! This is gonna be good! Wait a minute. How much dressing did they put on it? A teaspoon? It's barely there! I can't believe this crap. Now I really am gonna have to ask for a side of dressing and this guy is going to think I am crazy. Okay, calm, breath. It's just dressing it's cool, people do it all the time. Excuse me, sir; can I have a side of dressing please? Oh, thank you. Now I'll just smother that in dressing. There is the salad I was looking for!

Once lunch was over, I decided to take Brian by the local Vickie's Secret. Since I've been on the, eh-hem, bigger side of things my cute little panties don't fit any more. But, since I've lost some weight, I have four cute pairs that fit, one of which is falling apart, and I'm tired of rotating through them. I knew the cuts I was looking for, which are pretty common cuts, so we could totally find a few pairs. As soon as I got to the store, I scanned through the offerings and found one of the two cuts I was looking for. Awesome! It's the cut I really wanted, too. Let's go pick out some colors! Hey, wait a minute. Does that sign really say "One Size Fits All"? You've got to be kidding me. Maybe it's just this section. Nope, it's all of them. Again, you have got to be kidding me. Not only am I shocked that a store of this caliber would try to pull that kind of shit, but I can tell you right now, that what fits a size two in no way will fit my size large-ass. Gawd. Are they really pulling this shit? Maybe I can make it work. How big do these stretch out to? Well, maybe that will fit. Huh. Maybe if I hold it to my hips, it'll give me good news that they will fit. Nope, nope, nope. The only way these things will fit is if they are stretched out all the way, all day long. GUESS WHAT VICKIE!!!!???? THAT MEANS ONE SIZE DOESN'T FIT ALL, YOU BITCH!!!! As I left the store, feeling utterly betrayed, I thought maybe if we checked into a few more store fronts we could find what I'm looking for. Nope, nothing there. They don't sell panties here. Oh, look! Kittens!!! That'll brighten up my day a little bit!

It's not uncommon in this part of town for people to bring live acts out onto the street, or to ask for help for their organization. With the way my day had been going, seeing a cute little kitten play or just looking at them could really help turn it around, because fuck if things just aren't really going my way today. As I approached the cages, I saw the sweetest little calico kitten, and immediately told Brian I wanted it. He pointed out a Chester kitten and my heart just sank. They were so sweet, napping, licking themselves clean and playing with the papers stuck to the cage, gawd I wanted to take one home, and just seeing their sweet little faces was starting to turn my day around. Then the lady behind the cages started yelling at all of us about how we should donate money so they could pay their vet bills among other things. Her yelling at all of us blocked my ray of sunshine that was the kittens and I just had to walk away. It's true that I wanted to pull out my wallet and donate to them, and by now I was thinking that my money was misplaced in the massage I got earlier. But you know what else was true? My job is part time and pays crap. I don't even know if I can do the $60 to cover for the make-up massage. ::sigh:: I just wanted to see the kittens and this bitch ruined it.

At this point, I really needed to turn this day around. I mean, really, massage - okay but not great. Soup - had to pick out the mushrooms. Salad - no dressing. Panties - one size fits all. Kittens - bitchy handler. Maybe if I got a bite or two of chocolate from the local chocolatier. C'mon Brian - if there is one thing in this world that will cheer a girl up and put her day back on track, it's a bite of good, delicious chocolate. As we walked into the chocolatier there was a lady talking to the singular man behind the counter. She needed a full description of EVERYTHING on the menu. I was starting to feel my patience wane, but told myself to calm down. Sometimes people need some explaining, you know you've been there. It will be your turn in just a minute. I looked over the chocolates sitting behind the case, but no description was available to tell me what they were. Clearly, this was no Godiva, but what I was looking for was simple, easy. There is no way they couldn't have it. As I could tell my patience was growing less and less, the guy behind the counter looked over at all of us in line and asked if we were paying cash or credit. Before I could say anything, the man behind me said "credit" and the guy behind the counter said "okay." Huh. That was weird. I mean, I'm the next in line. Does he not care what my response is. I mean, I could go cash or credit. And why would he talk to the man behind me, and not me, the next person in line. Maybe it was just a general question to acknowledge we were all standing there. Or maybe he's a sexist.....no, no, girl. Benefit of the doubt. It was just a general question.

Once he finished up with the lady in front of me, he came over to the chocolate case and began to put on a glove, and also continued with his conversation with the man behind me, not once looking at me as I stared directly into his eyes. Okay, so he's telling the guy that he's low on cash and that's why he was asking the question. He hasn't yet asked anyone what their order is, and if this asshole behind the counter thinks he is going to "pass over the little lady and talk directly to the man" I am going to go the fuck off. And if this asshole thinks he is going to trump me in line just because he is a man, I am going to go the fuck off. So go ahead, jerk off, put on the glove. Let's see you do it because I will bring the wrath of hell to your doorstep for your sexist behavior. One step, dare you. Just as I could feel my blood boil and the darts in my eyes take aim, someone else came onto shift and he asked her to take over, because hey, he had to go on break as he explained to the man behind me. At least she had some sense, and knew I was next in line. One chocolate and caramel, please. What's that? You're sold out? Okay, common flavor it's cool. How about some sort of chocolate on chocolate, like a chocolate truffle? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T MAKE ANYTHING THAT IS ALL CHOCOLATE???? YOU ARE A FUCKING CHOCOLATIER!!! IT'S WHAT YOU DO!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOU ALL, I'M GOING HOME!!!!

And with that, I was on the street corner yelling at Brian to take me home. I sat quietly in the car, knowing that no matter what I said or what I suggested at this point, it would just go to crap. It was traffic almost the entire way home, until Brian jumped off onto a side street that I didn't suggest. He asked if maybe my new favorite would make me feel better? Frozen Peanut Butter Yogurt topped off with chocolate peanut butter bits. I knew what would happen if I went, some bitch who got there 2 minutes before me would decide she needed an extra large size of peanut butter flavor and stand there, filling up her extra large cup, while I sat there tapping my foot, not believing the kind of shitty luck I had. By the time I got to the flavor, it would have almost been tapped, to the point where I was getting the scrapings of the barrel where the fro-yo had the consistency of something between a slushee and fro-yo. Hey, it's happened before. So either that, or they will be out of the chocolate peanut butter pieces that I love so much. Or a combination of the two. So, no, take me home.

As we walked down the hallway to our place, I just caught glimpse of our repair guys who decided to finally come and fix our air conditioner. At 4:50pm on a Sunday. I stood out in the hallway, yelling at the ceiling, WHY GAWD, WHY?????? I let Brian deal with it, as I sat down on the couch with my computer, unable to turn on the air conditioner and unable to open up a window because of the lack of a screen. Let's face it - with my luck at this point, something with a stinger would fly right in and decide that somewhere on my body would be a good place to plant the stinger.

So I'm writing this, sweating on my couch, feeling my $200 massage melt away as I can once again no longer turn my head to the right. I've already explained to Brian that the plan for the rest of my day is to drink, and drink heavily. I'm lucky that he laughed at me and ran to the store to get groceries of the rest of the week. While he's been gone, I've discovered that he's emptied the dishwasher, made the bed and left a sweet little card on our bed that I have yet to read. On this, the day of our six-year anniversary, I realize that I really do have the best guy ever.