Clever Blog Title

Hello, we are still alive. :)

The holidays have been crazy, right? Tell me about it. I've been so busy working and getting shit done for xmas... yesterday I had a moment where I was bored and remembered how nice that actually was.

Brad and I got each other nifty gifties and our families were all happy with their presents and we with ours. The highlight of Christmas had to be Dad's genuinely excited comment, "You know, we could make the area under the houseboat a dungeon with chains and shackles and everything, and like, keep people down there!" I love Christmas. And his joke, "East Carter has a chess team now, did you know? They won a tournament in Lexington and they were kicked out of the hotel because the owner couldn't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer." The more he told it the less I could contain myself! Got him to giggling so much he couldn't tell it anymore. I'm not kidding, I almost peed after telling number 3.

I've been taking more and more pics at the studio. I run into hangups sometimes, like where to put all of one family's three infants for a group picture... that was fun. Or the family with one jackass that ruins every picture because they are being obnoxious. You can tell I'm new at it because rather than the standard 40-60 images, I'll download 100+. I'm going to break our computer... haha.

I got a kid to be happy today, the only way being to let him play with my necklace. The parents didn't really want pictures of their son playing with jewelry, however if you took it away from him even a second he would scream bloody murder... lol. I need to find better trinkets I guess.

Oh, weight loss. What happened to us? Brad is doing just fine. I'm to the point now where I forbid him to tell me how much he weighs everyday. Literally he weighs himself every damn morning, and it's always less. He said he can't wait to start exercising, I told him he wasn't allowed, that *I* was going to start exercising, and I will let him know when he can start... LOL. Give me a break. Seriously, he is at 241. Jerk! I don't know mine exactly, last I checked it was about 198. It goes up and down, I have all kinds of woman issues going on though, so who the hell knows. Maybe my last cyst was a 2 pounder...

But I also have some good news for myself, one big deal was my dad noticing I've lost weight. Dad doesn't notice things very often. My hair had been streaked for months and he only noticed recently. The other day, "You're clothes look baggy, are you losing weight?" Yes. "Brad better watch out, you're gonna get all skinny and he'll get cuckold!" But really, I can take my pants off without unbuttoning them or anything, haha.

And this was pretty funny, the reason I decided to get back on here and blog: fat flab.

You know, when people lose weight, and this skin just kinda hangs around? It's pretty gross, right? Well yesterday I'm running my hands over where my tummy has been meeting my thighs now for a good couple years and it just felt... off. What was that? It's like... flab. Previously it's been bloated/pillsbury doughboy squishiness. And now it's different. There is definitely less there, but it's pleasant plumpness is gone. It practically FOLDS over. I guess most people would feel pretty icky about this, but I am personally pretty excited! I mean, hey! That means something is working, right!? lol. Sure it's hideous to look at, but it was a noticeable change, which was good to experience. So I stood up and just kinda pulled and massaged my belly fat and it is absolutely different. It's so WEIRD! Brad catches me doing this all the time now. It's like science fiction! I'm disappearing! One morning they are just gonna find my skin and I'll be gone!

So yay for fat flabs! I want to touch it right now... that is exactly what I am going to do. See ya later, folks!

Downer Alert

I'm depressed.

Not clinically this time, just exhausted and feel defeated and what have you.

I should just donate my body to science and get it OVER with!

I'm hurting. The damn left ovary again. I don't know if it's stress cause of work, but last month my good aunt flo came like almost a week early. Ok, I can deal with that. But I was getting so used to a nice regular functioning down there.

And now, two weeks later, I'm spotting. At first I thought... hey, maybe I'm pregnant. But it doesn't add up. I could have barely ovulated. And this kinda feels like ovulation pains. So why would I be bleeding? And it hurts. So maybe another cyst, why not? Sometimes I think my whole body is one big fucking cyst. I'm just a cyst with arms and legs.

I've checked into things in the past couple of years. Got my thyroid tested, I'm on meds, it helps with mood swings, but it also has an effect on my cycle. Once I ran out of meds and didn't think it was super important to really care, didn't have them for a few months, and did not have a period once during that time. It was weird. Decided I had those meds for a reason and went back on them. Clockwork after that. The pregnancy in January, the miscarriage in March. Still clockwork. September-October, cyst party. Horrible. Now it's December and it is hurting again. Everything is haywire.

I've always suspected I have hormone issues, but I was tested and nothing came up. I can't believe that. I'm the hormonal equivalent of a teenager, complete with ridiculous acne lesions. I grow body hair like it is going out of style. I could literally grow a beard if I wanted. It would rival Brad's. I'm just a giant mess. One of the reasons I'm trying so hard to be healthy and lose weight is cause I figure it could only help this situation. At least I would have less skin surface area, so theoretically, I wouldn't have so many damn zits or body hair. Right?

But nothing is ever found wrong with me. I really want to just bug the shit out of my gyno, but I feel like I'm being stupid or something. I was just there, ya know. They didn't even do an ultrasound to look at my ovary, but I really feel like they should. WHAT is going on down there? I'm almost 30, I want babies. It never occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to (I guess that doesn't occur to any girl). But come February, I can be medically defined as infertile. That's just a year's worth of trying with no results. I'm gonna try to hold on until March or April, but the closer it gets, the more anxious I get.

And I have always thought it would be so easy. Getting pregnant, first of all, but also in the event that I couldn't have my own children, I would just adopt. No biggie. But it really is a biggie. I don't know if I want to have a baby that isn't mine. Does that make me heartless? I really think I would rather be a foster parent than adopt an infant. Everyone wants to adopt infants, but not many people want to foster kids. And this house is like narnia for most kids. Video games, endless tv and movies, internet, all the jazz kids like (and Brad... hmmm).

Was at grandma's house going through pictures so I can put together one of her Christmas presents. I just sat there and cried the entire time. Seeing all my babies as babies. What happened? It really doesn't feel like that long ago. I get so sad... you see a baby and you see everything... all these different paths their lives could take, all these potentials. As they grow, windows close, some potentials never get realized. Their experiences shape them and direct them. Before you know it, you have a slightly dysfunctional pre-adult. My aunt Katrina says it happened to me too. One day I was a baby and the next I was a terrible teenage shit who they lost for about 6 years until I came out of it.

But yeah, kids. I just wanna take a crack at raising one or two. Raise them to be little teenie pagans with big hearts, like me. It doesn't help working at a job where I see itty bitty babies regularly, and little shit kids. Why some skanks can have kids and I can't is beyond me. And wouldn't my spawn just be the most hilarious thing!? The world needs my minions! This may be a matter of national security. And Brad is going to be the best dad EVER... oh, I'm crying just thinking about what a damn good father he would be!

And if someone would have told me years ago that I couldn't have kids... would have had a lot more fun, I tell you that right now. Would have saved me some serious worry. It's probably a good thing I didn't know... Ah, screw today. I'm going to bed. Again. For the second time. Sleep is nice.

-other, -other, -other

I guess the Moon is dancing around in Capricorn or SOME kind of weird shit like that is going on cosmically cause weird shit happened yesterday.

First, the pocket of infection in my face finally exploded! TMI! Ah, but it was so satisfying. I'm surprised I didn't wake Brad up cause I yelled, "HOLY SHIT!" The explosion wasn't YouTube worthy or anything, but it was still something that just SHOULDN'T have to happen! Ugh! It is certainly going to leave a nasty scar on my cheek, but I just HAD to find out if it was indeed some kind of cyst or like a nest of spider eggs or maybe the answer to world peace or the cure for cancer. It had to be done. Brad wants me to man up and finally go to a dermatologist. I just hate going! All I have are memories of going and being berated for picking at my skin, or worse, a reaction from the doctor along the lines of, "Oh wow, this is really bad, never seen anything like this." Cause that totally happened to me last time I went. Amatuers.

And in other weird news, and this is really weird... well, some back information may be helpful. I'm a bastard. That's the short version. I'm pretty proud of it, it's kind of my own personal N word. I own that word, dammit. I've got my siblings, ie: brother and sisters from another father, type deal. And I have an older brother from another mother and we've stayed in contact over the years after the discovery. And I've known about the presence of another brother from another mother (other other other), but never made any contact with him. Cause you never know if the realization of such relationships is gonna ruin a family dynamic or something. Like I didn't confront my first brother until I knew for a certainty that he was aware that his step dad wasn't his biological dad. I'm not in the business of ruining happy family facades.

And reaching out to this other brother (who is younger than me), has a huge caveat, it brings me dangerously close to the father I have never met, as he was claimed by said father in ways me and the older brother weren't. And I don't know if I want that yet. The whole thing is a mystery to me, and that is frustrating, because I know there are people in this town who know more about events surrounding my existence than I do. And I'm pretty sure my family has no desire for me to be curious about this, particularly my grandparents. But I'm an adult now, I call the shots. And it's perfectly natural for me to be curious. It's weird not knowing half of where you came from. Even if the dude was essentially a sperm donor and nothing more. You just want to get a look at them. Search for the resemblance. Explain shit. Although I've always doubted there would be a huge resemblance, because I am practically a carbon copy of my mother. Seriously, it's creepy.

So I finally decided to just do it, and months ago I sent a little message to little brother, it was innocent enough, something along the lines of 'are you so and so's son?' Never heard back. Didn't know what that might mean, and I over anaylze everything, so all kinds of stories rolled around in my head. And yesterday, a day like any other, he writes back. One thing leads to another and now I know my brother. Life is crazy. And for the first time in my life, I get to see what my dad looks like. And my other grandma. It's like finding pieces to a puzzle that's been nagging at you for 28 years. I've never known much about the man, but now I know he's a ginger. LOL A damned freckled ginger. And he's Irish, so now I'm like SUPER IRISH! Which is awesome to know. And little brother didn't know he had blood siblings, it never occurred to me that he would be excited to hear it. Pretty cool. So that's my story for November 30th, 2011.

Time management crisis.

It seems I am going to have to have a sit down (when I'm not exhausted) to re-evaluate my fitness goals. I've worked only two days, I had forgotten how hard it is to accomplish anything in addition to going to work. Brad woke me at a heart-wrenching 8 a.m. to first watch American Horror Story, then prepare a roast in the crock pot then actually get ready for work. I don't think I've done that much shit before 10 a.m. in a long time. I know, that's pretty sad.

But with work comes some dilemmas. I'm down with breakfast, it's very routine now. Every damn day I eat a breakfast serving of oatmeal, 2 tsp. of splenda brown sugar, and frozen blueberries. Yum. I look forward to it now. Then there's lunch, which with work occurs 2-3. First day, I ate with co-workers, we went to Long John's (god help me). Today I called Grandma and asked if she'd feed me, had chili. I need to start packing a healthy lunch, evidentally. This could go downhill really fast. And it would give me the extra needed time to call the 40+ customers to confirm their appointments for the following day if I just ate my lunch at the desk that is like a closet within a closet.

By the time I get home I am STARVING! Had our delicious (tho more bland than I'm used to) roast, then was like... must have more... Melba snack crackers and hummus. I'm still starving. My body is being deprived of it's occassional daily naps (yes, plural, napS). Need to plan this out better.

And, a friend of a friend of mine (so I really don't know who this guy is) has also started a weight loss blog: imgoingtoloseweightifitkillsme.blogspot.com. His name is Keith, go be encouraging or inspired, whatever you need. I am seriously considering the purchase of a training program through www.workoutbox.com, as he is doing. Apparently this site and it's product is legit. I don't want to waste time explaining it, if you are curious, go to the website.

But as of right now, I don't know WHEN my first day off will be. That's right, I have a "part-time temporary" job, and I have no idea when I get even one day off. Hahahaha. But it is very laid back and I've enjoyed it so far. I was told for a certainty to kiss my weekends goodbye until after Christmas. Brad has been so whiney! I'm like, what, you miss me sitting on my ass all day while you work? I guess he does... that's so sweet. I loves him.

I'm gonna go read stuff now. Have a lovely night.

Bodily explosions!

Turns out the episode of food poisoning and excessive bloatedness I experienced while in Gatlinburg in October was actually me rupturing an ovarian cyst. Oh, lawdy, life is hilarious! Here I had blamed the Mexicans who had prepared my dinner. Good news is, there doesn't seem to be any more lurking around, that could be noticed with a simple physical exam anyway. I had discomfort for about a month after it happened, which you would expect when something explodes in your body and has no where to go... no wonder I couldn't suck my gut in that night! Oh, the pain the next day was HORRIBLE! My heart goes out to all the ladies I've ever met who have polycystic ovarian disorder, that is NO way to live, man. It was funny, the doc asked if I'd had any episodes of pain and vomiting and bloatedness, and I thought wha... no... ohhhh... yeah. Brad was like, holy shit, should I have taken you to the hospital?! Haha, nah. Just one of those curses we women put up with from time to time.

He said if by May we still haven't had any luck, that Brad will have to get his special baby juice tested, cause it is the cheapest test they can do, so they start there. And while I hope we don't have to get to that point, it is quite hilarious to think of Brad having to go "make a desposit" at the doctor! This man can't even go into Rite Aid and buy condoms! I'm not kidding, HE WON'T DO IT! I will greatly enjoy his discomfort... mwahaha.

Oh and the scales at the doctor's office? Screw THAT! Talk about wanting to throw a 3-D model of a uterus through a damn wall.

Enjoy a sneak peak at my peacock Christmas tree that is currently a pile of peacock vomit on my kitchen counter.

Oh, and did you catch that last comment on my previous blog!? 199.5, kids! Ignoring completely the doctor scales today. Blatantly ignoring.

Dogs, jobs, and babies.

Sounds like a new program on TLC.

Whew, today has been an eventful day... when viewed from a certain perspective...

Was hanging out on the porch and this dog kept whining at the steps. I thought it was Gizmo, cause I couldn't see it very well. Turns out it was a dog from up the road named Andy. And another dog, who wouldn't sit still long enough for me to see his collar, whom I called Chocolate Face. So after finding out they belong just 3 houses down (which in Willard is a variable distance, to be sure) I walked them home. Silly dogs.

Then two hours later I'm outside again and I can hear Pat's dog Belle going crazy after something and it was a little puppy! So I brought him in for safe-keeping and we spent a good hour watching tv with him curled up around my head. I figured he belonged to the same place, just being a puppy he didn't have tags yet. Was gonna call until they called me asking about the little fella, whose name is Woody. So I drove him home too.

Besides that I've done NOTHING today.

And despite thinking this blog would help me feel accountable to weight loss efforts, And despite making it publicly known I'm going to start exercising, I still haven't done it.

**Holy shit, the wind just blew down a tree across the field. Willard and all its wonders never cease**

And Brad's been playing the hell out of Skyrim (a video game) so I've been playing the hell out of World of Warcraft. I know, it's not something a 28 year old should talk about. In my defense, I do not consider other players my second family, as I haven't played the game with another living person.

So I guess I have a job. Olan Mills finally called me back. I had mixed feelings about it as I had spent a good 48 hours convincing myself I didn't want the job anyway. Sat and thought of all the reasons I could probably hate the job, I guess as a defense mechanism in case of rejection. So when they called I felt pretty conflicted. At the same time, it's part-time and seasonal, not a huge commitment, and it will force me to go outside my hermit zone, so I accepted. Afterwards went out to see a movie and in the middle of it I would suddenly think, "OMG I have a job, how horrible... no, no... focus on the movie. You are at a movie right now." Shit, this is going to put me back in therapy. Guess I better crack out some Eckhart Tolle books now, to get ahead of the game.

I don't assume to understand myself at all. Don't waste your time trying.

Starts Wednesday. Have a doctors appointment tomorrow to check on the baby oven, making sure it's not rotting from the inside out or anything. Been having some troubling discomfort around the ovary area, for about 2 months, of course as soon as I scheduled an appointment it magically disappeared. Kinda like having Brad look at my computer when its being an ass, but it works like a dream for him. But in good baby news, I'm gonna have a new Walker neice or nephew soon! The cuteness of the world is going to increase exponentially. I guess if I can't have Heath Walker's babies, at least I can be their aunt. Hahar.

And that is what is going on. Erica still weighs around 202. Brad keeps getting dangerously close to 250. Just truckin' along. Bo-ring.

Festivus for the Rest of Us!

Here's the obligatory post of the week.

Weight loss? What the hell ever. Still hovering around 202. Good times.

Brad is also hovering right above 250. Can't seem... to break... through...!

But in other news, I have an interview today, and it's pretty promising if I do say so myself, and I do. It's for a part-time, temporary seasonal job, so I won't even have to QUIT! Bazinga! Some people may be thinking, Oh, good for Erica, and then when I say it's to work at Olan Mills in K-Mart, you're going to say, Oh, how very tragic. Well, to thee, naysayers, I say, get away from me with your negativity! I'll have none of it! I perform my best when I don't have to hear all that shit so shut up. I am Erica. I'm flighty. I'm whimsical. I do what I want.

And this couldn't have come at a better time, because with the coming of Winter, I get pretty depressed, and need something to do very badly, something to counteract the constant feeling that I should be hibernating. Wake me up in Spring, people.

I'm not looking forward to the holidays (the Christmas decor out at the same time as Halloween really pissed me off) and mainly because I don't know what to expect this year. Half my family is in China, for pete's sake. Where's the fun in Christmas when some child isn't crying because they think they got less presents than another child? I guess that is what Dad is for, he always counts his presents and makes a big deal out of getting less than someone else... LOL. He is an eternal child, my role model, really. If anyone wants an explanation of how weird and playful and silly I am, look to that man. He makes no sense.

And I very much enjoy playing with the kids' toys. One year I opened Emily's Polly Pocket mansion before Christmas and played with it for hours before I finally wrapped it. I was probably 18. HAHA.

And usually every year I go overboard with Christmas decorations, because I find the festive lights very soothing. As a child, I would sleep by the Christmas tree for weeks before Christmas. I would line up the presents all over the house, categorizing them from biggest to smallest, by person, by wrapping paper. I would make all my dolls super pretty and set them up around the tree. I could wrap a mean package, dude. I should have been an elf. THE BEST WAY TO SPREAD CHRISTMAS CHEER IS TO SING LOUD FOR ALL TO HEAR! I would play Alvin and the Chipmunks NON-STOP and jump on the couches for hours singing at the top of my lungs. I never wanted to sleep. I was on some kind of child crack.

The more stuff I put up for Christmas, though, the more exasperated Brad gets cause he knows it's going to be a damn battle to get me to take them down. I want to live like the Finch's in Running with Scissors and just leave the shit up all year. And every year it seems I want to change our tree decor. Every year I justify getting new decor to Brad by saying, "Well, we will get this, and I'll just use it for years to come" then next year I want something different. I have two go-to's, the home style eclectic display of ornaments, many handmade, that I've compiled from my grandma and Jilda. Last year I added large old fashion colored Christmas lights that reminded me so strongly of my Mamaw Keffer's Christmas tree I sat there and cried just looking at it. I have the matchy-matchy set from my mom that I use occasionally. This year, I would like to go whimsical, almost dr. seussy, with crazy shit that makes the tree look like it's exploded in a fit of homosexuality. In peacock colors.

But enough about Christmas! I need to go mentally prepare myself to be awesome for this interview. Which means, all I need to do is shower, because I'm already awesome.

For the Alliance!

Let's see, stuff to talk about!

Went to Lexington for Hannah's birthday and had a really good time. Went to gattitown and had way too much pizza. Kicked Brad's ass at virtually every game except racing, which I suck at and don't understand. But it is worth noting that I beat the crap out of him at basketball. I mean, the crap. At one point I beat him like 36 to 22 or something. Hahahar. Then went to Patchen Pub and had many cinnamony shots that were delicious. Then Hannah tells me something about how drinking alcohol slows/stops your metabolism for so many hours. Not that it bothered me in the least at the time, but I thought I would look it up later. And I've never been so impressed at someone's Foosball skills just minutes before they crashed into a drunken stupor, that was AMAZING, Hannah. You and Ken should both be proud.

So I google the issue and find that yes, of course it does, and some sites that were like a little everday is good for you, and another site that was telling me it doesn't effing matter cause losing weight is a pitfall leading to later weight gain, probably more than you even started out with, and I was like, wtf? This site had all kinds of negative nelly things to say, and I was getting pretty pissed off until I realized it was a site dedicated to selling this fat-burning sports drink... LOL. Oh... I see.

What I am taking from this is that my occasional amaretto sours are probably not a good idea. But I feel that the bottle was in desperate need to be finished off. ;)

Brad keeps getting onto me for saying, "I've plateaued at 200!" lol. Yeah, I keep saying that. I figure I probably have a lot of plateaus coming my way. But seriously, it just kept dropping and dropping and now it's like... 202. 204. 202. 203.4. Etc. One day it was even 201. But never 200. It's infuriating. I read somewhere that it might be because I need to work on boosting my metabolism or some shit, specifically because I have a thyroid issue (albeit a small one).

Basically, I just need to get my ass up and do some movement. And weight training, which to me seems so silly when one is so fat, but it makes sense. Build up some muscles! After my hike last week with Jessica I was sore for like 4 consecutive days... hahaha. Nice.

I'm going to use this room now to vent about random shit.

The world is trying to mess with me. I am Josie's granddaughter afterall. First, I went to wal-mart to grocery shop the other day and it was a total mess. The checkout guy, who I think was new, and was also stationed at a register with an attitude problem, was having a really hard time with it. The machine scanned my mozzarella like 20 times in a row. $4 times 20, holy shit. Did the same with my salsa. He had to void off like 30 transactions, then when I'm paying for it, I've swiped my card, I've even signed the damn thing and hit enter, it suddenly says it needs a manager over-ride. I assume because of all the voids. So woman comes up and re-does some shit and is like, it needs you to swipe again. I asked if she was sure because I had already signed and everything, yeah yeah, shut up and sign it. Two charges of 160 bucks made on the card. Yep. Infuriating.

Then we get an unexpected charge from Windstream when we were under the idea that we had two months free for adding satellite and phone to our existing internet package. We were assured the two months free, it would have been three but we already had the internet. Brad never does something like this unless there is a good deal on it of some kind. At this point we are addicted to our lovely satellite. He calls and some bitch is like, no, you don't get that deal at all because you already have internet. The exact opposite of what the initial bitch had told us. Brad, being his lovely self, didn't argue. I feel that he should have. People who bitch get free shit, it is known. This is America, afterall.

I swear to odin, it's just that time of year when somehow, no matter how hard you try to be aware of it, you spend more money. Getting the gas tanks filled, paying for heat, Christmas and b-day presents, our regular trip to the gorge or gatlinburg... it all adds up. I think it's also because it's getting cold and spending money feels even better when it's cold and miserable outside, for some reason.

One fun perk to this is Brad is on to me quite a bit to be getting the most out of my WoW membership. I like to think it's one of my fiscally mature responsibilities to fight against the Horde for the good of Azeroth. But that doesn't help me in my weight loss quest. LOL

More of the same.

I got some physical activity in yesterday! Went hiking at the spillway with Jessica. Reminded me terribly of soccer conditioning when my main goal was to keep the back of her heels at the top of my sight. Of course, we were just walking, and it was difficult, so that is sad! I had to tell her not to laugh at my labored breathing, cause if I started to laugh too I probably would have died. Somehow we also talked a lot, but the last half of the hike I couldn't contribute much to the conversation anymore. Whew!

And I was sore when I woke up this morning.

Stretching before hand was fun, my body made all kinds of noises, snap crackle pop. I'm still surprisingly flexible, my belly just gets in the way a lot.

Maybe I'll buy Gizmo a harness and take him with me if I ever go by myself. Look out! I have a vicious dog! He will cuddle you to death if you mess with me!

We almost got a little lost, it was getting very dark and we couldn't see the blue trail marks anymore and all the leaves were covering the trails. Had it been October 31st, I might have been freaked out, but as it was I was too busy trying to keep up to really care. And if you are going to get seriously lost in the woods with someone, it may as well be Jessica Collins, who could probably kill a bear with her bare hands.

I weighed 201 the other day, 199 is so close I can taste it. It's weird though, 2, 0 and 1 seem so low by themselves, 9 and 9 so big. It's messing with my head.

I think I'm going to schedule in some "treat yo' self" days, probably 2 a month. One to go out and eat and for me and Brad that usually means Red Lobster or Hibachi's. Another day where I cook one of our favorites in the fat way they are supposed to be cooked, like my meatloaf and mashed taters or lasagna. I'm currently looking for a healthier lasagna roll recipe that includes spinach, artichokes, mozz and portabella. Having trouble finding one that doesn't call for ricotta, which I despise. Eden, I've found some stuffed portabella recipes, but I can't seem to find the right one, could you send me a link or something?

Seems like we think more about food now than we ever did before. Brad literally wakes up in the morning thinking about dinner and nagging me about it. He goes to sleep discussing future dinner possibilities. It kinda drives me nuts, especially when I'm hungry, which is pretty much all the time. That boy acts like he can't eat unless I'm feeding him. Got back from hiking last night around 8 and he hadn't eaten yet. He will starve himself and turn into aretha franklin until I feed him. It can be a daunting responsibility. I've just been kinda down lately, what with the med change, my desire to cook great healthy meals has gone considerably down. I need to get to the store and stock up, maybe if I get off my ass and do that today I will feel better.

Awkward...

Awkward is one of those words you write out and wonder if you are spelling it right, and it drives you crazy.

Haven't been posting because I have nothing to say. You don't want me to post when I have no clear idea what to post, because you are going to get something thoughtless that rambles much like this.

Had a delicious dinner last night of baked and breaded chicken strips. Used panko bread crumbs, italian seasonings... I had never breaded chicken before, so it was a lot of fun, really. Messy. It wasn't a very healthy recipe, aside from baking the chicken instead of frying it. Coated them in spices, then flour, then egg, then bread crumbs and parmesan. I have read that a healthy alternative to all that is to use yogurt at some point in this process, but we were out, so I said to hell with it.

Made enough to feed an army even after having a friend come over and help us eat it, so we will be having this for days to come.

Halloween was pretty neat, dressed up. I'm beginning to realize I have a real problem socially (duh) but particularly because I feel like I can't have a decent time unless I'm shitface drunk. I'm just so AWKWARD. Being plump is part of it, maybe, but only a small part. It's easy to blame your quirks on being fat, I guess. But I'm pretty sure I could be 130 pounds and still be completely strained in a social setting.

Brad and I are definitely happiest sitting around the house, serial watching tv, on our computers... every now and then I get an itch to be around people, to only be reminded of why I don't do that very often. My circle of comfort only extends so far. Inevitably, if I talk long enough around people, I'm going to say something off the wall the offends someone or makes everyone uncomfortable. But I'm kinda sick of feeling like I have to apologize for the social awkwardness and hermitting. I think I'm just gonna embrace it for a while and see what happens. Hahar.

And this is what you get when I have nothing to say. Gonna try to start the exercise this week. Blah!

HALLOWEEN!

Ok, so... it's Friday again. The official 'weigh-ourselves' day, despite the unofficial weighing every morning which we need to stop. We've been eating very well now since October 16. Brad started out at 264 and is now 255. Almost 10 pounds in 12 days! That's probably the best we'll see at this rate considering the shedding of the water weight in the beginning. At this rate meaning until we add exercise. So he has lowered his BMI from 39 to 37. Goooooo BRAD!

Now for the better half, moi. I started out at 211 and now I'm 203! My BMI has lowered from 36 to 34. And both of us have lost waist circumference, which is really great. I've decided today that we are not going to do the complicated waist, hip, chest, etc. Cause our measuring of it is just not very reliable. May keep doing waist, but I'm trying to uncomplicate this mess for my sanity.

I've also quit keeping track of calories. It was nice at first to see what we were capable of, but it was getting monotonous and repetitive. We have a very good idea now what we can eat and what we can't in a day. And we learned that we need to be getting much more protein. With that, we leave the calorie counting behind. But I did purchase a food scale so we can be more accurate with our servings.

But screw the numbers, we are feeling really good. I've felt so good I decided to go out and watch the East Carter Lady Raiders play in their state game Tuesday night. Didn't even know who would be there, just dragged Brad's butt out of the house and went. That is completely not like me at all. I just went and had my own private good time. Brad was a bit miserable, but that's Brad.

I've been calling and talking to people I haven't contacted in years. Just cause I feel good.

And I'm currently working on Halloween costumes for Brad and I (much to his dismay, but he said he would do it to make me happy as long as I don't go overboard on his costume). The funniest part is we don't even have any place to go to wear our costumes... minor detail! I'm sure something will come up. And if not, we will just have a wild and crazy night of role-play sex starring the queen of hearts and super Mario. Bow chicka wow wow.

So I feel really good. Which is a particularly good thing cause I'm having to taper my anti-depressant dose. Apparently my drug of choice has been causing cardiac arythmia. So if you are taking Celexa, you might want to talk to your doctor. Just sayin'. I guess a healthy dose 2 years ago is no longer a recommended dose now according to the FDA. Those guys... always watching out for me.

What? I'm not allowed to talk about my anti-depressant meds? Give me a break. Not a one of you could possibly be surprised.

Oh, and I need people whom I tell I am dieting to quit asking me prying questions that suggest YOU think I'm not being healthy about it. I haven't taken a diet pill my entire life. I've never puked my food back up on purpose. If I ever look like a skeleton feel free to stage an intervention, you have my permission. Now smile and walk away.

Motivation.

I need to motivate myself to start the exercise. It's coming, I've come thisclose to doing it for the past couple of days. And because I want to, which is weird. But I'm not QUITE there. Maybe collecting my thoughts will help.

What I miss about being thin:

• Not thinking about my weight.
• Going shopping and enjoying myself.
• Not being jealous of my skinny friends.
• Walking up steps without worrying that everyone is staring at me because I'm breathing like a horse.
• Running and playing with kids.
• Going out in public with confidence.
• Feeling comfortable.
• Not being worried about what the waitress thinks when I order cheese sticks.
• Crumbs landing in my lap, not my boobs or belly.
• Putting on socks without having to lay on the bed first.
• Running into people I used to know, and not wanting to run away.
• Taking a trip on an airplane and not feeling like my body was centrifuged.
• Not wearing control top hose, girdles, spanx, or any other torture devices.
• Bras with 2 hooks, not 3, 4, etc.
• Bring proud of my bubble butt. I had a really cute ass.
• Pleasing angles to my face.
• Wearing a swimsuit.
• Not always sucking it in.
• Eating to live instead of living to eat.
• Wearing cute underwear.
• Comfortably getting to those two empty seats in the middle of the movie theater.
• Wearing boots.
• Crazy, unbridled, make others blush, SEX.
• Shaving my legs without contorting my body or holding my breath.
• Not having to fight my way into a public bathroom stall. I swear they are getting smaller.
• Not wasting my brain power to generate clever comebacks for people who call me fat.
• Having my picture taken.
• Not feeling homicidal when a skinny person complains about their weight.
• This is more something I hate about being fat: the horrible tacky ass fat people clothes. Ugh. They are TERRIBLE.
• No attack of the insane huge upper arms.
• No back fat.
• Only weighing myself at the doctor.
• Sliding easily into restaurant booths.
• Sitting with someone on the same side of the picnic table. 3 years ago: Brad and I tipped one over on top of us at a park in Morehead. Yes, people saw.
• Only having one chin.
• Not limiting my hair styles cause they make me look fat-ter.
• Doing fun things without concern for the weight limits.
• Having a sweat-free ass. And under-boob area.
• Wearing out my jeans at the cuff, not between my damn thighs.
• Not worried about being "the fat girl" when I go out with friends.
• Painting my toenails.

Just to name several. lol

And of course, there is always the desire be desired, to be admired and pretty. That's a pretty vain reason, but it is the truth. It took health issues to wake me from my ten year hibernation, but I would be a damned liar if I said this had nothing to do with wanting to be cute. Sometimes we fat people get on our soapboxes and want to be respected and loved despite the obese BMI. We want more plus sized models, we want "big is beautiful" to come back into style, we want our ability to love our bodies before we want to be healthier. We want the media to stop making us hate ourselves.

We want a societal and cultural revolution before we want to exercise. No biggie.

These are just excuses to not take care of ourselves. And that is hard for me to admit. "Big is beautiful!" "I may be fat, but at least I'm not a bitch!" (In my case, I'm a fat bitch... lol). "At least I'm not skinny and starving!" "I'd rather be able to count my rolls that count my ribs!" There's cognitive dissonance at work for you. You don't like being fat? You have three options here. You can continue to hate being fat. You can convince yourself you don't hate being fat. Or you can work on being not-fat. Change your thinking or change your behavior. You shouldn't accept your weight so much that you don't work on being healthy.

Keep your reasons in mind.

"Taste Worth Dying For!"

Since I suddenly care about nutrition, some online articles and news snippets have grabbed my attention and I would like to share some of them here.

First of all, I believe it was my good personal friend Brian Williams who introduced this news segment on a Las Vegas restaurant "Heart Attack Grill". http://www.heartattackgrill.com/ For those of you who missed it, THIS IS NOT A JOKE! Go take a look, I'll wait...

...

... once again, not a joke, but pretty damn funny. And tragic. If you weigh over 350, and allow yourself to be weighed publicly in the restaurant, you eat FO FREE. I thought the 96er was for comedic purposes only. But no. But why not be honest? You have to give them credit there. And they call the diner 'the clinic' and the waitresses are 'nurses' and of course there is a doctor. These are sadistic geniuses. And don't screw with them. They will sue you.

I love America, I really do. Mainly because it's so entertaining.

Here's a lovely take on the Occupy movement:

http://fitbie.msn.com/eat-right/tips/occupy-mcdonald-s/tip/0

By the way, I love this Occupy Wall Street thing. I've always loved Europe, particularly France, for their protests. They bring people together, get people talking, and sound like lots of fun. Here in Grayson we should Occupy something besides port-a-potties. Any suggestions?

But back to fast food.

Places like McDonalds, Wendy's, Arby's, Hardees, Burger King... they are American institutions. They aren't going away. Because they are, for the most part, affordable, fast, convenient. My fatass doesn't even need to get out of the car. Our children recognize and can say McDonald's before they even understand they can call themselves by their own names.

Eating healthy is a damn chore, and our world doesn't go out of its way to make it easy. Healthy food is more expensive. More perishable. Harder to find. You slide down the fat slope easily enough, hit rock bottom, then have to climb and claw your fat way back up the other side. You know... when you can barely climb or claw anymore anyway. People want to get their panties in a wad over gay marriage, liberal media, loss of family values... when our real sin is gluttony. It feeds into everything else. It kills us. Good ol' population control.

So to those of you out there who are trying, good for you. Fight the system. Fight the strategic fattery. And next time you go to McDonalds for a meal, know that you've maxed out your calorie requirements for the day and then some, and all for a negligible amount of nutritional value. Go ahead if you want to, but don't act like you don't know! Cause I done told you.

And for the record, Ronald scares the shit outta me. Always has.

Over it.

We're going to pretend the last 24 hours never happened. No calorie counting occurred during this time. And that's ok. I'm already over it.

Had a fabulous time at Jeniffer and Lacy's wedding. At least I think I did. Woke up this morning at Jilda's, my tights had come off, and I have a very sore wound on the bridge of my nose, and photos of me with a garden gnome- and I don't remember how any of those things happened.

I remember everything up 'til those shots...

I don't think I ate anything terrible, I didn't even eat too much, but I put a real hurtin' on some beer.

Brad came down with the usual impending-social-event-allergies, and stayed home. Which works out because that meant I called him a lot, leaving crazy messages, which are the only clues I have as to my state of mind. There were even a couple of fights, making the event the best party I've been to in years, hands down.

He keeps asking what is for dinner and I just keep avoiding him. Because I decided early on today that not a single shit would be given about anything. I don't even care that he's in there cooking fish, which I hate. As long as I don't have to cook it.

Today's lesson: it's okay. Have fun. You're on a diet? Good for you. Don't beat yourself up when you fall off the wagon. And if you're drunk, you won't even feel it, so it hardly counts, in my opinion. I also learned that when you've been starving yourself, beer is so much more delicious.

And I still haven't changed clothes. Don't judge me.

Question

To the people who are reading along, and have their own fat stories to tell, I have a question that google is not answering to my satisfaction.

Why is it, though my body weight is going down, my body fat percentage seems to be going up? IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY!? Nah, I'm not hysterical over it, just confused. Makes me worry I'm not being as healthy as I think with this weight loss.

And different calculators say different things. The one I am using (and damn that math again... and the metric system) is basing the calculation off of height, weight and chest, hip, waist circumference. And being a lady, haha, it also asks for my wrist and forearm, for some reason. From three weigh ins, on the 16th, 18th and 21st (don't worry, I'm gonna do weekly from now on, just wanted to see) it gave me 28.45, 28.49, and 28.50 percent body fat, respectively. Brad's is similar. But this other calculator, which only uses gender, weight and waist size, puts me at 42% (which sure as hell seems more realistic. I thought math was supposed to be a constant and beautiful thing, so why aren't these calculators constant and beautiful, dammit!?

Google has yielded some vague answers, provided by fallible mouth-people, such as loss of water weight. But there was also something troubling, that maybe our bodies are tapping into muscle before fat for energy. How does someone control that shit, I wonder. If it's even true. So I need some feedback, friends. What is going on in here?

I have a confession...

Oh good lord, what is Erica going to say? Brad and Jilda are both holding their breath right now, I'll bet. Don't worry, it's nothing terrible... well, not THAT terrible.

First, a little background.

The first time was 3 and a half years ago, during our honeymoon. Not sex, oh, aren't you silly! The first time someone asked me when I was DUE.

We were in Eddie Bauer. A sweet old lady at the register. I had picked out two shirts (NOT MATERNITY, mind you) and out it came. And what I have to say to that, is SCREW THE ELDERLY. They get away with way too much obnoxious shit. I've gone back and forth over whether I should really have been pissed at this woman, and today I'm making it official, she's an ass-hat.

People can be fat. This is America, and we are surrounded by fat. Now, maybe when the elderly were our age, more women looked like they were starving and such, but if you can't get with the changing program, maybe you shouldn't be driving to work everyday. You are a danger to society. And my feelings. And, this was 30 some pounds ago.

We spent two hours after that sitting in the car while I wailed. I mean, I let loose. I was on my honeymoon. I was supposed to be happy. And I only weighed like 170-ish. Here's an idea... if you aren't CERTAIN someone has a human parasite in their uterus, keep your mouth shut. You too, old people. Not that they are reading this. They can't use the internet. Eventually, Brad dragged me into the Dixie Stampede. Yee-haw.

You just don't know how horrible it is unless it happens to you. Good for you if it hasn't.

Then it happened again, I don't remember exactly when. Maybe about 2 years ago? Maybe less. I'm at a local grocery store. Pill-head idiot I graduated with is cashier. Brad is with me once again. She says something to me, and I misheard her, probably because I wanted to. After some confusion, oh... wait a minute. She is saying congratulations. But I wanted to crawl under a rock and die. "Nope, just fat." That is what I have to say to people I know.

If I don't know the person, I've found it's a lot more fun to say "only 3 more months!" so at least we don't both walk away embarrassed. One old person wanted to know boy or girl and I said, I'm old fashioned, it's a surprise, which really tickled her old ass pink.

It especially sucks because well, I wish I were. I wish all this was just for that. Not the case.

Which brings me to the confession that while on our vacation last week, before fatpocalypse began, after eating mucho Mexican food and alcohol, I walked with Brad back up the strip to our motel... and didn't even TRY to suck it in. I let it all hang the eff out. And I developed a slight waddle. Hand on my back ever so subtly at times. I didn't have to fake being winded or bloated, cause I sure as hell was.

Warm smiles. Couples nudging one another as if to say, awww, look at that, that will be us one day. People got out of my WAY. Smiles smiles smiles. It was kinda cool, in an absolutely disgusting kinda way. Brad said, "yeah, that's funny... but you're going to cry yourself to sleep tonight." "Duh," I responded, and we laughed. It was better than making myself sick trying to suck it in. And I paid for it the next day with intense food poisoning.

Fat Photo Session

Ok, the post you've all been waiting for, the one I have been avoiding, and the one Brad has bitched about for a couple days now... the fat gallery.

And when I say Brad bitched, I mean *I* had to talk *him* into it. I thought I would be the one with the biggest problem... tee hee.

Cause it ain't pretty. I mean... look at how much SPACE we take up. It's almost impressive. It's embarrassing, but it's also reality, it's not like I can pretend myself unfat.

I'm not feeling the words coming very easily right now... maybe I'm distracted by the new cable or by starving.

But honestly we both feel like we are eating plenty every day. But since we switched out so much stuff for low-calorie versions, after we add it all up, we run to the kitchen for snacks to make sure we don't die. Seriously. Yesterday I had a total of 1100 calories after dinner, and about died of shock. An apple and some nuts later, I felt better about myself. So it's interesting that eating extra food now is making me feel better instead of like shit. It's all about perspective.

I did look it up though, and found that, as you probably know cause you don't live under a rock, it's recommended you get 2000 calories to maintain your current weight. But it is doable to go as low as 1200 for a girl, 1500 for a guy, in order to lose weight at a healthy rate (1-3 pounds a week). What blows my mind is that if I were doing exactly 1200, and also added exercise which we eventually will do, I can easily subtract 200 from that. It's all math. And I hate math.

I've found this website that cuts some of the math out for me: http://www.myfitnesspal.com/food/calories/activia-cherry-yogurt-11407575 Cause I can put in what I know the serving size and calories to be, then cut it in half, or quarters, whatever. Stupid maths.

But counting calories isn't as friggen terrible as I thought it would be. I've rigged an excel spreadsheet, which isn't perfect and I get aggravated at it a lot. But seriously, filling it out 3 times a day, is about as thrilling and addictive as Farmville.

To be completely honest, I haven't thought much about nutrition today, but about politics and escaped animals. Maybe I need another blog... :)

Unexpected Results

Wanted to share some exciting news after only day 3 of fatpocalypse:

I've lost 5 lbs.

Bringing me to 206.5. Brad was 264 at the doctor last week, but is now at 258.5. Damn men and their superior weight loss.

I am attributing this to the following:

http://www.healthy-answers.com/a-salt.html

Pretty damn cool.

It lists brains as being high in sodium, so for once I feel sorry for those hypertensive zombies. Zombies are people too.

And dinner today was brought to us by Skinny Crock Pot .com. And by extension, Pinterest.

http://www.skinnycrockpot.com/black-beans-and-chicken-2/#more-418

I've talked Brad into a photo shoot tonight, should be pretty sexy! Stay tuned!

Strategic Fattery

I thought it would be fun to include a post where I share the hilariously bad foods we had been eating on a regular basis:

First and foremost, let me just go plum off about good ole homestyle cooking. Both Brad and I have wonderfully gifted-in-the-kitchen families, specifically his mom and my grandmother. It gives them a creepy pleasure to feed us... a lot. Often and in mass quantities. A homestyle dinner just isn't complete without tons of fried meat and at least 4 side dishes. And dessert. Why do our loved ones want to feed us so much, then complain about our poor health? And they get mad at us when they make enough food to feed an army and we don't finish it off.

But let's stream-line this process a bit...

Ground Hamburger

Whether it was hamburger helper, tacos, meatloaf or actual hamburgers, hamburger played a major role in 80% of our dinners. What is the main cause of high cholesterol? Animal fat. Particularly red meat. Particularly ground hamburger. At this moment, in our basement, we pretty much have an entire cow. Of course, we also had a dead wildcat in our deep freeze for the first two years I lived here and I didn't even know it.

Box Dinners

Macaroni Grill, Hamburger Helper, mac n' cheese, frozen stoaffer's, etc. The sodium and fat content in these foods is astronomical. You know those frozen healthy dinners you can buy, like Lean Cuisine and stuff? Insane amounts of sodium. It is actually recommended you only eat 2 of these things a week, and Brad ate them everyday for lunch.

Crackers

I am obsessed with crackers. Town House baked with sea salt and olive oil? Yes, please. Half a box in one sitting? Thank you. Ritz. Chicken in a biscuit. Club. Crackers crackers crackers. Sometimes I have some soup with my crackers.

Cheese

What did we NOT put cheese on? After we discovered pepper jack cheese, we literally put it on EVERYTHING we possibly could. String cheese. Grilled cheese. Mac n cheese. Cheese on potatoes of any kind. Huge homemade pizzas with tons of... cheese. At least 3 different kinds. Just writing about cheese right now is making my mouth water. Eden told me last night that dairy is absolutely terrible for you. We pretty much quit needing dairy once we are weaned from the breast. As she put it, "We don't need that shit because we are adult mammals." It's probably a government conspiracy. We can get all the calcium and vitamins we need from much better sources, like spinach. The cholesterol and fat in cheese just isn't worth it.

Pastries/Sweets/Cake

All the time. Apple pie. Enough said.

Mashed Potatoes

This will be my last confession, because it is the most shameful. You know those cups of garlic butter sauce you get with your pizza from papa johns? Well, we set them aside and when we make mashed potatoes... we totally dump it in with them. I'm not gonna lie, it's delicious. But I must also confess that I also put about 3 tablespoons of margarine in there. Plenty of milk. And sometimes I would ALSO put in a good two tablespoons of cream friggen cheese. All at the same time. Eden called that 'strategic fattery'. This post is dedicated to her.

And, check out this website, I'm planning on trying out many of the suggestions: http://www.greatist.com/health/healthy-recipe-substitutions/#

Adventures in Grocery Shopping

Well, the first day of the 'diet' had its ups and downs for sure!

But it wasn't nearly as hard to execute the plan as it was to plan the plan. Brad and I have never done well in a grocery store, and there was a time in our relationship that we feared Kroger would be our undoing. We went to Wal-mart, because the local store just doesn't always cut it. I just had in my head what I have read so far and compared A LOT of labels (while people stared at us, obviously annoyed, and I have to point out that one of the annoyed women had a toddler in her cart who was FRIGGEN HUGE). Just sayin'.

Brad got away with some stubborn crap that really irritated me, but I guess it's hard for someone to just flip the healthy switch. I mean, I admit I stared longingly at the cheeses. But come on. As a 'healthy snack' he chose to throw frosted mini wheats in the cart. Frosted. I just had to roll my eyes as he convinced himself in his weird logical yet self-serving way that it was the best idea ever. Then he insisted we get nuts in a can, as opposed to the cheaper bags of raw nuts in the baking aisle. He just knew those baking nuts had terrible things in them.

He doesn't think it's fair that I consider my friend Eden's advice and knowledge of food and nutrition as biblical fact. She may not be google, but the bitch KNOWS what she is talking about, she is wise. And if she says I'm right, then I'm right, dammit!

In our craziness we totally forgot several important things cause we just wanted to get the hell outta there.

Another hang up was sodium. I just take it for granted that sodium = salt = bad for you. Brad was convinced that sodium doesn't matter because "we have high cholesterol, not high blood pressure." In fact, our blood pressure is usually so low it's difficult to measure it. But yeah, I'm so sure that high sodium intake has NOTHING to do with high cholesterol... can you hear the sarcasm?

We substituted a lot of things, like Splenda instead of sugar, plenty of whole wheat rices instead of mashed potatoes. Apparently salsa on a baked potato is a good idea. Spray olive oil. Tons of fruit for snacks instead of chips and crackers. Stayed away completely from meals in a box, the chip, pop, cracker & frozen dinner ailes. Once we get the hang of it, I'm sure it will cut our shopping time considerably.

So we didn't kill each other in the end afterall. The kitchen is fully loaded. The bad stuff is gone. We have no choice. Which is safer.

In the beginning...

Ten years ago, I was 120 pounds. I could run a mile in just over five minutes. My lungs were healthy. I played sports. I didn't even have a 'pooch'. I was a very picky eater, but what I did eat I could put back plenty of, and it went no where. I loved having my picture taken. I was adventurous. My main concerns were getting into college and not getting pregnant.

This January, I will be 29 years old. I am 210 pounds. Walking up the stairs in our home winds me. My lungs... I don't even want to know. I've smoked cigarettes for ten years now. Sports? I have a hard time getting my nephew in and out of his car seat. I remember having a pooch... now it's a gut that gets me a lot of warm smiles because people think I'm knocked up. I will eat just about anything as long as it isn't healthy. I cringe when I see myself in a photo or a mirror. I don't get out much. My main concerns are getting along with my husband and trying to get pregnant.

Things have changed a bit.

For a long time now I've just rode the wave. My weight gain made me increasingly depressed and disgusted with myself, but not enough to do anything to fix it. I've just avoided myself. I avoid mirrors, pictures, swimming, getting out in public. I've hidden behind jeans and big t-shirts. I am constantly uncomfortable. I can only have a good time if I'm drinking and manage to forget what I look like. In my mind's eye, I'm still that cute and healthy 18 year old.

As 30 approaches, more thoughts come to mind that I find harder and harder to avoid. I want to live a long and healthy life. I want to spend as many happy years as possible with my husband. I want to have children that I can keep up with. I don't want to be a young widow, or to make my husband a young widower, or orphan any children. It happens everyday, and it has happened to people I know, and it literally breaks my heart. If a perfectly healthy person can go to the hospital one day for a cold and never come home again, I wouldn't stand a chance.

We've had some problems getting pregnant. I don't think I've ever been as happy as the day I peed on a stick and saw that plus sign. We lost the baby in March, a very 'run-of-the-mill' first pregnancy miscarriage. Since then, nothing. I'm obese. I smoke. Brad's obese. Conditions are not favorable. Maybe there is some other explanation, maybe I am just being impatient, but what kind of fool am I if I don't make the changes that I can to lead a better, healthier life?

So that is what this will be about. The main goal isn't to lose weight, but to be healthier, and hopefully weight loss will be a by-product of that. If I get in a particularly good mood, I might include photos. The fatpocalypse began today with throwing out some very high cholesterol, high fat, high sodium foods. Next we gorged on a "last meal" of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, stove top stuffing, and to beat all, a damned donut. After that, a painfully long trip to the grocery comparing food labels and avoiding the pop, candy, cookie and frozen dinner aisles. Then a toast to our efforts, an 8 oz. glass of chocolate almond milk. ALMOND MILK. More to come...