Super Inspired Writer

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Sunday, January 26

Pinning Queen

I have been so damn good at getting to the gym. I have been fricken amazing at eating well. But when I get lazy I get super lazy and that’s no lie. My table is covered with school papers, lunchboxes, and craft supplies. Our clothes are fresh and clean but (cringe) still in the laundry basket (but folded!!). I see a tiny dust-bunny under my TV stand and I don’t care. Why? Because I’m on Pinterest, that’s why! Don’t judge!!

There is something crazy gratifying about just sitting on your ass pinning everything from meals, to jokes, to outfits, to hot bodies (I've identified Channing as Dean's 20 year younger brother from another mother). I have the “Divergent” book series ready to go and don’t feel like cracking them open because I would rather sit and pin on my macbook. As a parent and teacher we spend hours trying to get our kids off of technology and on to doing something constructive, but as a working mom I can’t blame them. Technology is just so fun and addicting!!

Pinterest Mexican Quinoa
MY Mexican Quinoa
Here is the good news. I tried not one, but two new things that I pinned this month. I very rarely replicate something that I see. Even in my what seems like a hundred cookbooks in my kitchen, I just like to look at the pictures and then make something close the way I like it. But I thought, well hey, if I am spending all this time pinning, I should try something new that I see at least once a week. Okay that was too over-zealous, I did two this month and here was the outcome.

1.     Mexican Quinoa: I don’t know what the eff is in the recipe from Pinterest. I never even clicked on the pin to get to the website. I looked at the picture and said, looks like corn and beans to me! So that’s what I made. Mine was delicious too and warms up well since you have to make about 6 cups of it. Healthy and tons of protein. This was a win.

Pinterest Outfit
MY Outfit
2.    Denim-Shirt Outfit: I have seen this outfit in a few variations and just invested in my brown boots so I sent my husband to Old Navy in search of a denim shirt on his day off and the lucky bastard actually found one for me. Easy as 1-2-3 I made my ensemble and got many complements on it at a kid’s birthday party this Sunday. “It’s my Pinterest outfit,” I replied with a wink. Another win. I need to do this more often.

So maybe Pinterst does know something we don’t know. And maybe it is an educational resource. It’s good for my diet and it’s good for my fashion sense. Now if I could only get myself to commit to one of the 30-day Squat Challenges I have been pinning. Ugh. There is always February.

Thursday, January 23

Blame the Zodiac.

I started this blog to share my weight loss journey with everyone, but it has become much, much more to me. It has become my lifeline, when I have so much to say and yet don’t feel like talking to anyone. It is both a soapbox where I can yell out my woes in laughter and strife, and a mirror where I can watch and reflect upon myself.

I am a hot mess emotionally, I can’t hide that. I have always been a crier both alone and in public. My mom would say it’s because I’m a Pisces. We are the most emotional, the most intrinsic and intuitive, whose everyday is like trying to stay afloat on the waves of the ocean (get the fish analogy here?). This is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand I think I am extra loving, extra accommodating, and extra romantic. It doesn’t mean I “love” more, just that I have a special extra-dramatic way of showing it. I care too much about how other’s think and feel. I am a peacekeeper. I want everyone around me to feel at peace. On the other hand I am always on the verge of tears, always on the brink of feeling too much. Tears of joy or tears of sadness, they are always there at the back of my eyes burning my vision.

Our family, just like your family, has a constant array of shit that is going down. Although some journeys are harder than others, and some seem completely unfair compared to your own stupid “problems”, no one is spared when it comes to the constant baggage that is being piled on. And for someone like me that means a mix of minute by minute, play by play emotions. Luckily I was blessed with being able to fake it. Just like my days on stage, I can numb myself to the point of almost being a cold-hearted bitch, but it’s in there, it’s always in there, choking me.

And it all makes me so tired. By the night I only want to loose myself in a mind-erase like a book, or shower, a lover’s-romp, or to sleep or type. I over-love and obsess and think and feel all over my kids, my students, my husband and family, friends, job, etc. etc.  to the point where I’m holding my breath until everyone is tucked away in bed.  It’s goddamned exhausting.

And so is loosing weight. I am putting so much time, energy, sweat and tears into this it’s become a full time job. Counting calories and exercising takes as much preparation as a lesson plan some days. Good news is I think I have made the scale my bitch finally. We have such a love/hate relationship it’s borderline codependency. We need couple’s therapy. But two weeks of keeping the junk out of my system, even with calories the same, and we are going down again. Damn would I like to see 80 for my one year in March!! Five and a half-weeks and about 6-8 lbs to go.

And the day is now finally over and it’s my night on the couch alone and the only thing that can keep me warm tonight is my husband’s old “Titanic Swim Team” t-shirt. Yes, the 15-year old treasured one I wore for my sleep study. And just putting it on brings me peace and a tear to my eye. And that’s fine by me.  

Tuesday, January 21

Mine Eyes.

I need to come clean. No matter where I am, I am looking at those around me, wondering how my body is matching up. For so long I was one of the largest people in the group, and sometimes, even at my largest, I was the smallest, and neither was necessarily the best place to be. Even now, I have a horrible habit of a wandering eye, and I’m not talking about looking for hot guys while out and about.

Like in Zumba. Here is what is going through my mind. Who’s ass is larger than mine? Who’s is smaller? Who’s ass is larger but has a flat stomach? Who’s ass and stomach are both smaller than mine but has no boobs? Who is pear shape? Who is apple shape? Who is magic-marker shape, like me? Why do I look pregnant? Does anyone think I’m pregnant??

And now I’m sitting her watching the Biggest Loser, it’s the week when they get make-overs. Here is how these make-over shows work: if you have long hair you are doomed. It’s going to get cut and it’s going to get cut short and funky. I never get this because if you see “hot” people in magazines or say the Victoria’s Secret catalog they all have long flowing blue lagoon hair. Blue lagoon hair is hair so long it covers your boobs say if you were naked on a deserted island like Brooke Shields in the movie. Not being Brooke Shields or being on an island is neither here nor there.

And then their new bodies in their new clothes. Some of these broads now weigh 10-15 lbs less than me and I think they look way chunkier than me. Why? Because they are on TV? Because they are hobbits? Because I think I look different than I actually do? I mean… the ginger in the red dress claims she is wearing a size 6. Hmmm. Skeptical.

Any why do I care? Because I do. I can’t help it. I’m not judging, I’m just observing. Instead of becoming less self-conscious I have become more self-conscious in some respects.  But it’s okay. To stop looking and assessing would be to stop changing and growing for me. And that’s all I can be is me.  

Thursday, January 16

I like big thutts...

Is it just me or is there a bunch of crazy ass shit on Facebook these days? Okay, I know that it’s not new information, but it seems to me that every day you log on and there is another crazy ass article or pin about the unrealistic expectations of the female body. This week specifically, after blogging about the bikini-bridge, I learned of a new term called the “thutt”. Yep, doesn’t take a genius to see that it’s a combo between “thigh” and “butt” in fact it’s the crease where the two meet, and the more well defined that area the better. I made it easy for you this time: Thut Article The prescription to a hot thutt is lots of squats. I’m not one to brag, but I think I’m okay in the thutt department. In fact, my backside is how I got hitched so you won’t hear me complain about the junk in my trunk.
Then there was the article about the new “plus-sized model” in Cosmo mag that is a size 12, and she is probably six feet tall as well. Size 12-16 is average, and yes, also plus-sized, which is a crappy term in it’s own if you ask me. What the hell does “plus” signify here? Is it the same as the infamous “plus one” that is so offensive on wedding invitations? Does it mean something extra is added to what is only supposed to be there? Either way, it’s just one thing after another to keep you looking at and analyzing your own body. We are constantly trying to figure out where we fit in the scheme of things. The internet playing with our body con.
And I am constantly trying to figure out where I fit which is kinda in between here and there. I was so excited to find cheap brown boots online, because since I am between reading novels, I have a lot of time to browse Pinterest. There is a theme that reigns in the outfits that are pictured and here is what I have gathered to be the perfect no fail I’m the boss outfit:
Denim jacket
Crisp white t-shirt
Cool scarf
Black leggings
Brown boots
Coach purse
So I search for cheap brown wide-calf boots and find a pair on Two days later they are here, and the whole time they are on the goddamned UPS truck I am already having anxiety that they won’t fit over my fat ass calf. In fact, I have already decided that I should look for the packing tape to send them back.
They arrive and thank God I have a child home with me because I am lying on the floor on my belly trying to have gravity flatten my fucking leg so my 8-year-old can help me zip. You know, like when your jeans are too tight and you lay back on the bed to zip those? Okay, you get the picture.
I get the boots zipped and pull myself up and….what the hell is that? Is that….dare I say….boot muffin top?? But it’s only the right leg, and I think my leg is kinda crooked, so… now I’m stumped. I was so worried the boots wouldn’t zip and now they do and I’m self conscious about something else. I turn around and they look fine from the back, thutts and all.
Emotional roller coaster, weight-loss life was much simpler before the internet and it’s variety of new terms, rules, and regulations for the female form. So I do what any logical Italian woman does after such an experience.

I pound out some pizza dough.

Wednesday, January 15


PLATEAU: A state of little or no change following a period of activity or progress.

MAINTENANCE: The process of maintaining or preserving something. 

And there you have it in black and white. This stretch that I am calling my plateau really isn’t so much. I have been maintaining for three months and I have no one to blame for the lack of movement than myself. But let me explain first, that YES I acknowledge that maintaining is nothing short of miraculous for a food addict like me, but that YES I am still on a weight loss journey so that is still my goal for now. K? Glad that’s settled.

I am trying to open my eyes to what is really happening and what is really hindering any further downward movement with the scale. I keep writing the same damn post over and over about passing the 70 lb mark, then I sneak back up to 67-68 with a day or two of drunken debauchery. A few days of shakes and detox later and I’m back down, and the cycle continues, and continues, for THREE FUCKING MONTHS.

So NO, I have not hit a plateu. If I were working hard every day and nothing was happening than I can’t really blame anyone but my shitty metabolism but that truly isn’t the case here is it? So, the only thing to do is re-evaluate where I am at and make a new plan. The plan when I was 70 lbs. heavier no longer works, the days where I could work really hard for 5 days and slack for 2 and the weight would continue to melt off like a popsicle in the summer.  Because no matter what I ate it was still better/less than what I had been eating. I now need to be good EVERYDAY, eat healthy EVERYDAY, and allow a small treat here or there, with trigger foods in extreme moderation.

So why get goddamned weight-loss surgery if you are only going to be enslaved in a world of dieting anyways? Well, it’s not now nor will ever be easy but it is still better. My appetite is much, much smaller. My portions are much, much smaller. My digestion is much, much different. But, so dark the con of man, I still have to be in control of what I put in my mouth every day. I still have to wager if 100 calories of Cheetos is the same as 100 calories of fat-free yogurt.

Enter egg beaters, quinoa, and 98% fat free microwave popcorn. Because 1000-1200 cals a day of WHATEVER is not enough anymore…yep folks, it’s time to….eat healthy foods. I’m about as excited about this as a toddler going in for a flu shot. And I don’t care who you are or what you are pretending so no one judges you….healthy food is not as delicious as junk food. But I’m going to make an effort. Isn’t that all we can do anyways?

In six-weeks is my Bandiversa-Birthday. What will 36 bring?