Breakfast of Champions.

For whatever reason I am up at 6am. Actually I was up at 5 to go to the bathroom and thought I would check my bank to see if my pay was there and I couldn't sign in.

One freak out and a phone call later and I was back in. After that I tried for about an hour to get back to sleep, with no luck.

So, I got up and went for a coffee run and, of course, breakfast. It is rare that I am up at this hour and can benefit from the breakfast menu.

Now what do I do with myself? Too early to start banging around cleaning the house. Too early to bug others with chat requests. I was up til midnight reading blogs, so that is out.

The internet is getting boring. Any suggestions?

Why does looking and feeling good have to cost so much?

I don't know how many of you eat right, or stay in shape but if you do, how do you afford it?

It is so much cheaper to be a lazy fat chick. Between eating 'right' and exercising I am going to go broke.

Prices on so-called 'healthy' foods are retarded. When I was living on coffee and cigarettes, believe it or not, I had money left over at the end of the month. Now it's the complete opposite.

Thank God I don't have to feed The Boy during all this, or I would have to take a third job.

They wonder why obesity is on the rise among lower income families?

Who can afford to be skinny and still send their kids to college?

Water everywhere and not a drop to drink.

As part of the weight loss program, I am told I should be drinking lots of water.

I live in town, that means the tap water tastes of chlorine. So off to the drug store I go to pick up a bottle or two.

Sounds simple enough, right? Wrong. There shouldn't be a decision process behind a simple water purchase. It should have been easier than, say, purchasing juice.

I am standing in the water isle with a bewildered look on my face. Rows and rows of possibilities.

Glacial water, spring water, well water, purified water, demineralized water or distilled water, sparkling water, artesian water, carbonated spring water and then of course an unending variety of flavored water.

Did you know that, in all likelihood, water labeled “purified water” and “drinking water” indicates the water came from a municipal water supply. That unless the water is labeled spring or mineral, you might as well drink the stuff you have at home? Municipal water supply equals tap water people, and we are paying for it, through the nose.

All I want is moisture. It shouldn't be so difficult.

Times they are a changing.

First up, Weight Watchers.

I am starting to look the same coming as going, if you catch my drift. Put another way? I can safely park in the expectant mothers space at the mall without fear of reprisal. I have probably gained 20 pounds since I started working from home.

My back hurts, my sides hurt, my feet hurt. Everything hurts now. Don't even get me started on the FCS. I figure I am carrying around at least an extra person in weight and my joints are not impressed.

Ever hear the expression, "Inside every fat chick there is a skinny one trying to get out"? I know she is in there...because I ate her.

So that's it.....I am joining. Nurse Darling and I took one look at each other tonight and said, "Fuck it, let's do it."

Don't get me wrong, I know that diets do not work. But Weight Watchers does. And I has absolutely nothing to do with counting points or the meal plans. Everyone who is not a complete idiot knows what not to eat.

The key to WW is the woman. You know who I am talking about, the lifer that puts you on the scale every week and gives you that sympathetic look, "Awe sweety, you gained a pound."

She is your will power. She will be that voice in the back of your head that keeps you from eating that candy bar. It is the dread of hearing those 6 words that will prevent you from polishing off that pizza.

And of course the competition when you join with a friend, bonus. I am going to post my weight and progress on the bottom of my blog. (what about you ND?)

Ok, Nurse Darling....it is on!

Girl's gotta have it.

When I want something sweet, I will do anything to get it.

Last night we were in the midst of a storm, there was no way I was braving the elements to get a sugar fix.

What to do?

I am woman, right? I am so! Off I go into the cupboards to see if I can find my dog a bone.

But when I got there....you know the rest.

I do have a few things, brown sugar, oatmeal, that sort of thing. There has got to be something I can make. Dig through the drawers and drag out the Joy of Cooking (yes I have one, its about 30 years old) there must be something in this huge book that I can make.

Nope, no cocoa or chocolate, scratch that.
Crap! No eggs.....shit, damn. Looks like I might just have to scarf down a spoonful of sugar to tame the craving.

Wait just a minute....I have meringue powder, that's made out of eggs right? Hell, it is eggs, sort of.

Ok, now we are cooking with gas. And it looks like I have peanut butter. I am good to go.

I probably should have made sure I had all the ingredients before I began, but I was jones'in for cookies, I can't really be held responsible for what transpired.

So, there I am, deep into the recipe, creaming the butter, brown sugar, white sugar, simulated eggs in the bowl. It all looks good. Something is missing, this is way too moist. there has to be dry ingredients.

Flour....do I have flour? Everyone has flour....Shit! I don't have flour.

Now what? Hmmmm, I am contemplating just eating this concoction with a spoon when I spy something in the back of the cupboard.

Pancake mix. God love Aunt Jamima, Its basically flour, right? How much different could it be? I am into it now, I have nothing to lose. Ignoring the boy's rolling eyes, I crack open the pancake mix and throw it in. While I am at it, I toss in some oatmeal.

Long, long, long story short, awesome cookies!

It's from the Martha Stewart cookbook, jail house edition.

A product who's time has come. Sadly.

What I want to know is...what took them so long?



In an age of couch potatoes and video game addicts, you would have thought that they would have come up with this sooner. Maybe they already had but it's the first I have seen this.

He knows I would die for him.

Oh, dear Lord!

These will be the death of me. Just when I think I can safely choke down the low fat ice cream bars, I am slapped in the face with these.

Oh, well I can't come home with ice cream for myself and none for The Boy, right?

They are too for The Boy!

Well, of course, being a good parent means tasting their food. You know, just to make sure it is safe.

Safe, ya, that's it I want to make sure it is safe. [chomp]

These things are addictive.[chomp] Little bite sized pieces of chocolate ice cream wrapped in a [chomp] crunchy chocolaty coating. ADDICTIVE I TELL YA![chomp chomp]

I cannot in good conscience subject The Boy to this addiction. He could turn into a couch potato, balloon to 400 pounds, sink into depression, write a manifesto and blow something up. I cannot and will not subject my child to that disastrous future. It just wouldn't be right, right?

[chomp] Don't give me that look. [chomp chomp] I am saving my son, God damn you!

Oh, bite me!

Long past time for me to deal with the FCS.

I am writing this on Sunday but since Sunday is reserved for You Are Here, I will post this on Monday.

As some of you may know, I have been not feeling myself lately. I went to the doctor after my Emergency Room experience and she put me on blood pressure and cholesterol meds. We also discussed lifestyle change. I say lifestyle change because if you have ever been on one, diets do not work long term. I already knew what was wrong with me. I am old, fat, I don't move and I don't eat anything that doesn't come out of a box. Fat Chick Syndrome.

I wanted to join Weight Watchers, I thought it was really the only way to lose and keep off weight. Not because I think their programs and meal plans are so great, it is all about that lady at the end of the week. You know the one, she watches as you step on the scales and gives you that little disappointed look if you haven't lost any weight. She is your will power.

But, alas, I am way too cheap for that and WW requires a lifetime commitment. Seriously, I have been a member before and did great on it, no problems, but then I got cocky and figured I didn't need that Lady Willpower, but I did. The mere thought of her kept me from consuming that entire pizza. A month after I cut her loose, I had those 20 pounds back on. I kid you not.

My doctor told me not to go bananas. She said for me to try and eat better, move a little more and take off 10 or 15 pounds. Pretty realistic goal, right? Although, at this point, I could lose the equivalent of another person and still not be skinny but she made a great point. You don't have to be Twiggy to be healthy. She said I don't have to go to the gym for an hour every day and eat celery 24/7. Little things, over time will make a huge difference. I agree.

So, starting Monday I will begin to change the little things that I can. I will look for an exercise bike. (This is the one I am considering.) I can't do anything cardio because of my heart and it has to be no impact because of the complete lack of arches in my feet. She also suggested weight training because you can't lose weight unless you convert it into muscle.

I will not buy the boxed dinners and I will try and cook shit. You heard me. I am pretty sure I can do it, although I have never really tried. Pray for The Boy.

I will figure out some way to get myself weighed. I don't own a scale. Maybe the one out on the highway?..ok, not that fat.

Here's the deal. Since I am too cheap to pay for the Willpower Lady at WW, you will be that lady for me. The unseen masses that read this blog. (ya, both of you)

I will broadcast my weight, exercise and eating habits right here for all to see. Won't that be fun? No, it will not be every freaking day, so relax. I may put up another page, for the day to day crap just so I can keep track but I will update my progress weekly. It will not just be about the weight, I also have high cholesterol, high blood pressure and I smoke. Honestly, I think I will leave the whole smoking thing alone till I get the rest of the health shit underway. Otherwise, it may not be safe for the general public.

I think I will do it on Hump Day...just because since I gained all this weight, along with the double triple chins, I have developed a hump (you fat chicks in the audience will know what I am talking about) so it is only fitting. I will think of a catchier title hopefully before Wednesday, if you have any suggestions, chime in.

Hey, maybe I will get fit enough so I can start playing tennis again. I used to love it, and for some reason it didn't feel like exercise to me, (well not until the next day suffering with the joint pain) I enjoyed it that much.


Today I took the first step....I purchase decaffeinated coffee. I will let you know how that turns out.

Am I pissed?

I don't know, am I? I am just confused.

TIM HORTON'S
NOW WITH 18% Cream!

What? What were they giving me before? Is the old stuff better for me? Was it real cream?

I check the fridge. The stuff I buy is called Coffee Cream and it says 18%. It's not lite, I would never buy anything that says lite. So as far as I can tell I have been drinking the good stuff at home.

So, what the fuck were they giving me at Tim Horton's? Cat milk? I don't get it.

So I head on over to the Horton's website to get to the bottom of it. There is no mention that they were previously serving me milk that their summer camp attendees painstakingly milked from stray cats in Tatamogouche.

Sorry, no info there. Nothing useful anyway. Except for this little tim tidbit.

Steeped Tea (not available in Quebec)? What objection could the French possibly have to steeped tea?

And while we are on the French, what the hell is 'French' vanilla anyway? Do they grow it in France? No they do not. Maybe it is that French vanilla is snottier than regular vanilla, ya think?

And while we are on the subject of WTF? Is this supposed to distract us from the fact this kid can't sing a fuckin' note?

This is what is wrong with America. They are calling in and voting for this kid, disregarding the fact that it is a SINGING competition. There can't be that many toned deaf people in the U S of A. Can there?

I am sick and cranky today, does it show?

F.C.S.

I know I have to eat better. With more thought to nutrition as opposed to taste. Cuz, let's face it, the two are mutually exclusive.

I don't eat, and when I do it's take-out (since I don't cook) or microwave stuff, since I hate doing dishes and they come with their own. Did I mention I am a domestic goddess?

I don't exercise, I walk to the car. That is it. I avoid the mall like the plague, as it too involves walking. I sit on my ass all day at my computer and all night at work to the point where my ass has actually started to take the shape of my chair. Its a nice looking chair but makes a lousy looking ass.

Seems like anything that is good for you gives me hives.

The Boy tried to blame me for us running out of milk.

I can not believe he is blaming me. "How am I supposed to know we need milk if you leave the empty carton in the fridge?"

"Uh, when you go for a drink, you see that it is empty." His logic astounds me.

"I don't drink milk."

"What? You should, its good for you."

"It's cow juice. The only way I can drink that shit is if I soak some frosted flakes in it first."

Unfortunately, my nutritional habits have contributed to my FCS. This became apparent one night at work when I was suddenly and violently gripped with what felt like a charlie horse in my ribs.

I contort myself in the most unflattering pose you can imagine, trying desperately to ease the pain that I can feel building rapidly. Bunnie looks at me horrified. "What's wrong?"

It looks like I am scarring her, I try and look less traumatized, "Nothing, I am fine. It's just the FCS acting up."

You could tell she was trying to figure out what that meant. After all she has had pretty much every ailment worth having (including gout...I kid you not) and she would know of all the major diseases and she clearly never heard of FCS. With a worried look (thinking this was some rare new malady), "What is FCS?"

"Fat Chick Syndrome."

Blank stare.

"You see, my organs are viewing all this available real estate on the outside of my skeletal structure and they are attempting to relocate."

Measure twice, cut once.

My friend Bunnie and I are both uneasy when it comes to going to the dentist. I was prescribed Adavan because I think my dentist was afraid I might bite him or something. This is nothing compared to Bunnie. I won't get into the particulars but yesterday, during her appointment, they had to take her blood pressure three times.

I was not even aware that they knew how to take blood pressure. Probably something they picked up after taking her on as a patient.

Anyway, Bunnie pretty much works herself up all week anticipating this appointment. After the appointment she is frozen up the ying-yang and 'starved to death' (her words) so she heads over to the Dairy Queen. She has a coupon for an Ultimate Burger. Buy one, get one free. Remember, she is frozen on one side of her face. But she believes she can get 'er done.

She pulls up in front of the DQ. Our DQ is bascially all windows in the front. The place is full and every seat has a view. So, Bunnie is sitting out front, parked with her front bumper up against the glass, coupon in hand.

She is about to get out of the car and get her Ultimate Burger when she stops. She has a problem. She is frozen, her lips are frozen, her jaw is frozen. This may cause a problem.

What to do? She wants the Ultimate Burger, but she is not sure she can manage to get her mouth open enough to accomplish the actual eating of said burger. And you don't want to waste money on a burger you can't manage to get into your pie hole, right? Just like you wouldn't buy a sofa that you couldn't fit through your front door.

But Bunnie has a solution. She looks up at the picture of the Ultimate Burger plastered on the window in front of her, fashions her hands in the form that they would take if she indeed had the burger in them and raises it to her mouth.

Now for the truly attractive part of the process. She opens her mouth as if to bite into that imaginary burger. This is when she she realizes that even taking into account the inevitable squishage of the burger, it just won't be possible to get the ultimate today. No matter how hard she tries (and she tries) her mouth will just not open that wide on its own.

With the experiment over, she gets out of the car and goes in and orders a single burger to take home. It was on the drive home that she realizes why everyone in the restaurant was smiling at her.

Crazy people make everyone smile.