...the endless pursuit of happiness...

Well folks, I hate to do it, but I've found a site that lets you blog AND post pics...for FREE. I've been waiting for this day for a loooong time.


Come join me at my new home:

http://illstartonmonday.blogspot.com/

So I was standing in the shower this morning...and when I'm feeling crazy, I'll turn the radio on. (We're hillbillies like that...we keep a little radio on the back of the toilet.)

As I'm doing my thing, the news segment begins, and the announcer says, "Abortion rates are at the lowest they've been in 30 years."

I think to myself, "I wonder how much they used to cost?"

I'm not kidding.

And then a moment later I realized what he meant.

<---- Biggest geek ever.

Is it just me, or is the human population growing "stupider" (get it?) by the second? I'm serious. Look around. What's going on? Is it something in the water? These inoculations the media constantly pushes down our throats? It's fucking scary to think about.

I was in Target over the weekend, picking up a few essentials. I had to make a quick stop down the dental aisle, as I needed some floss to keep my new chompers looking gorgeous. (I'm proud of them...sorry if you're sick of hearing about 'em.) As I turned down the aisle, I noticed two people standing there...staring at the fucking toothpaste. These people looked like zombies...they must have stood there staring at the toothpaste for 10 minutes.

IT'S FUCKING TOOTHPASTE PEOPLE...WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU STARING AT?? JUST PICK SOME AND MOVE ON. WHAT COULD BE SO INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT ABOUT TOOTHPASTE? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU'RE PURCHASING A CAR, OR A HOUSE FOR CHRIST'S SAKE. COME ON!!

I just don't get it. When did people become so stupid? Or am I too picky?

Here's an example:
You tell me I did something wrong. I realize what I did. I tell you it won't happen again, and I understand what it was I did wrong in the first place, and I assure you that I will take whatever steps necessary to assure it won't happen again. Fine. The case should be closed.

Is it?

No.

You insist on giving me yet another example of how I messed up. Hey Bitch...I understood you the first fucking time. I wasn't born yesterday. No really, I wasn't. I made it blatantly clear that I was in complete understanding of my errors the first time around. No second example was necessary. I'm not a fucking child. I understand things the first time around. And if I don't, I'll ask.

And then you have the audacity to send around a msg to everybody, and use incorrect spelling, and half-assed grammar.

Fool.

I'm sorry if I'm coming off like a complete and total bitch right now, but I need to vent. People these days are just getting on my every last nerve, and it's frightening me.

Now...believe me, I'm not perfect. Nowhere near. Probably the furthest thing from...but the difference between myself and the mindless drones I see walking around today's society is this: I will take the time to learn from my mistakes, and improve myself based upon on these.

Ugh, I don't know. I guess I just want more out of life.

I just don't know.

Billy Joel.  Hands down. The man is a classic, and can rock like nobody else.  Incredible show!  

Well folks, it’s day 15 of not smoking. 15 frickin days….can you believe it? Yeah, neither can I. I think I’m over the worst of it, and feel as though I’ve come to a point where I don’t need to be constantly snacking to make up for that oral fixation that smoking provided. (Don’t ask what the bf suggested to overcome that problem…boys…they’re gross!) In fact, I passed the ultimate test this past Saturday night; I went to a bar. I had one drink (vodka and cranberry)…and didn’t smoke. Now that Illinois has gone non-smoking, it wasn’t really that hard. In fact, I went outside with the bf and everybody else when they smoked, and it wasn’t horrible. I was tempted, don’t get me wrong…but there was something inside of me telling me not to disappoint myself and give in.

And I didn’t.

Now, back to eating. I’ve been letting myself slide with staying on plan…as a means of not smoking. Like I mentioned…now that the worst is over, it’s time to get focused again. I’ve been reading “Body for Life” by Bill Phillips, and decided that I’m going to try and follow his plan. Honestly, it’s not really different from what I’ve been doing all along…but I like that fact that he suggests you make lists of what you plan on doing at the gym the next day…and keep things organized. (I’m a list maker. Big time. In fact, I had once made myself a list and left it lying on the kitchen counter. My brother got ahold of it…and after the last item, the smartass wrote “make more lists.” Asshole.) So, I started the first workout this morning. It was tough…I woke up with a migraine that still has not gone away…didn’t think I was going to make it through the 20mins…but alas, I did. (Note to self..get there earlier. All of the old people got the good machines first…and I was stuck with the shitty treadmill that is so frickin ancient, it doesn’t even have a spot for a waterbottle. Bastards!

In other news, I got me a new set of teeth this weekend. I went to see a new dentist last week for a cleaning and checkup. He’s actually the dentist that my Mom saw and that my Dad still sees…and has so for 20+ years. (I finally got kicked out of my pediatric dentist by about the time I was 20…and just couldn’t find anybody I could say that I really liked…or trusted for that matter…so I decided to give this guy a try.) Yeah, he’s totally awesome. When I was getting my checkup last week, he kept telling me funny stories about my Mom…and he she would yell at me or my brother mid exam…and then let the doc go back to what he was doing. Too funny.

Anyhoo, on to the new teeth.

I’ve always had a David Letterman style gap. It’s never been a huge deal…my teeth were straight…looked decent..just always had that blasted gap.

Until now.

The new doc “bonded” my teeth (covered by insurance….fyi….they treat it like a filling)….so I’m a gap free kid now. (All the more incentive to keep of the smokes…ya know?) The entire process took just over an hour…not shots…needles, or anything of the sort. After the initial shock, I totally fell in love with my new teeth. In fact, the doc himself said, “Your mother would be so proud.”

I bet she would.

Ok, don’t take that the wrong way. I love my little brother dearly…but hate him in the sense of, “why couldn’t he have become an accountant…or a mechanic?” No…that would have made my life WAY too easy. My brother had to make the life altering decision to go to CULINARY SCHOOL. And not just that…his speciality is baking. Sugar and chocolate flow through this kid’s veins. And in turn, they flow through mine as well.

The Boy, as we so lovingly refer to him as, turns 20 on the 27th of this month. He’s still in culinary school, and loves to cook. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Really. I’m sure I’ve said it before…but I’m convinced he’s the mailman’s child. Not only does he love to cook, he’s damned good at it. He’s like any normal college-aged kid…except that he does his “homework” in my kitchen…and it generally ends up in my stomach. (Sometimes the dog’s too…perhaps that’s where that phrase was coined…)

He made a cake the other night…this huge, gooey chocolate concoction…homemade icing and all. Diet suicide is what I called it. I told him that he needed to hide that cake from me. I know my limits…and I know that I would dive face first and swim in that cake in the middle of the night, if given the opportunity. So he hid it.

And I found it.

Yesterday.

When I was on the war path and ready to say FUCK this whole quitting smoking thing.

So I ask you this: which is worse? Eating some cake, or having a cigarette?

I chose the cake.

The lesser of two evils, I suppose. And believe me, it was a tough decision. I found myself standing outside of my house, in the rain. I found one loose cigarette in my basement…and just so happened to find one match. I stood there…even went so far as to light the thing. I watched as the familiar orange glow of the cherry warmed my senses…I was so excited. My lips were pursed and inches…centimeters from taking a drag of the warm, enticing tobacco I once held so near and dear. Oh my god, I just can’t stand it any longer…I want is sooo bad.

“NO. I DON’T NEED YOU!. I WILL NOT LET YOU CONTROL ME ANYMORE!”

The fact that I’m sitting here writing this, and not currently in a padded room wearing a straight jacket surprises me. After I started yelling at that poor innocent little cigarette, I tossed it to the ground, stomped on it, and then picked it up, tore it into 5 pieces, and threw it into the yard.

And then I walked into the house and ate cake.

Which was worse…you tell me.

Ugh, what a day.

I’m surprised I still have hair in my head…no really. Can we say I was just a bit stressed out today? Nope…not at all. (Have I mentioned that facetious cynical bitch is my middle name?) =)

Day 7 without a cigarette. Yes my friends, I made it through the weekend. That also include day 7 without coffee, or booze. I think a ticker tape parade is in order, don’t you?

The weight…well, that’s another story. Saturday was 263. Sunday was 264.3. And today…266 even. Why, you ask? Fuck if I know. (Pardon my less than tactful language today…that’s just the kind of mood I’m in.) I didn’t eat horribly over the weekend. No pizza…no hot dogs…only a few cookies here and there. All in all, I’d say I ate at about 80% this weekend. (Hell, I even got the bf to come WORKOUT WITH ME Saturday morning. It was funny…we were on the treadmills at the rec…and I glanced at his heart rate…and saw that it said something insane like 180. He’s about 6′1 and somewhere around 285ish…I’m guessing. I look over at him and tell him to slow down a bit…that his heartrate was a little too high. (Of course he has his headphones on as well…so when he answers me…he’s basically just yelling.) He looks over at me and says, “Why…do you think I’m going to have a grabber?” Oh cynical bf…how I do love thee.

*******************************************************************************

Sorry folks…I never got a chance to finish yesterday’s entry. Work was insanely hectic…and now that I don’t smoke…I rarely use my computer in the basement…so most of my computing needs now happen at work, or from my bed. (Kinky, eh?)

We’re now at day 8 of not smoking. It’s weird…I really want to smoke…like really want to. But at the same time, I have like zero desire to fail on myself. I’ve never been this strict with anything in my life…especially dieting. I wonder why I’m so adament about not screwing this up? (Probably because I know how truly bad it is for you…and despite how I may slip with food and exercise…smoking is so much more deadly.) Will I go for the rest of my life without at least one more cigarette? Who knows. But…I’ve made it through 8 days now…let’s try for 8 more.

I didn’t make it into the rec this morning…for whatever reason, I just couldn’t stop hitting the snooze…so I ended up sleeping until 7:30. Oh well. On days like that, which are rare, I just let myself sleep. My body is obviously trying to tell me something….so I go with it. I may try and go tonight, but I doubt it. To be honest, there are some things I’d like to get done around the house…as well as finish a book I started last night.

Today’s weigh in…265.6. I don’t know what’s going on. Up down up down. Who knows.

Sorry for the half-assed entry people…my brain is nowhere to be found lately.

Ta ta.

I'm sitting here at my desk right now, googling "Nicotine withdrawl symptoms," cause I'm having them big time. I feel awful...have a headache...body feels jittery...can't pay attention to anything to save my life. I called a customer earlier and said to him, "Did I call you yesterday?" To which he replied ,"nope." I said "Are you sure?" He said, "No, you didn't call me yesterday." I said "Are you positive?" At this point the man starts laughing and says "No, I swear on the Bible you didn't call me yesterday." I then told him that I'm officially losing my mind, and quitting smoking has got to be THE hardest thing in the world. He thought I was funny. =)

Yeah, so this quitting smoking thing is awful. It's now day 4 without a cigarette, and I'm ready to pull out chunks of my hair and not even bat an eyelid. I feel like screaming...punching something...just walking out of here and never coming back. (Has nothing to do with work.) This is torture, and REALLY makes me regret starting 10 years ago just to "look cool" when I was in high school. How dumb could I have been? Ugh. No dwelling on the past I suppose. What's done is done.

So, I will forge ahead, without cigarettes. At this point, the only reason I want one is so I can get some work done and not feel like total shit. But, I'll live. One day at a time.

In other news, I made it to the gym and did 30 mins of lifting...this was the 3rd day in a row. And...we had a frickin heatwave in Chicago this morning...it was a gorgeous 24 when I left the house...which meant I only had to wear ONE pair of pants to go outside. Shit...I'm ready to BBQ!

Stepped on the scale at 6am. 262.4. Up 4oz since yesterday. No big deal...nothing to justify....it happens.

Alright folks...back to work I go.

Adios!

Are we sensing a theme here? I'm at work, and frankly, don't feel like doing any. Surprise surprise.

I stepped on the scale at 6am again. 262. Yesterday was 265.8. Tuesday was 272. Can't really complain about 10lbs in 3 days. Granted it's all water weight, but just to see that scale go down...it's encouraging. Before I stepped on, again I had the inner battle of "do I stay in my warm bed and keep hitting the snooze, or do I just suck it up and go to the gym?" After seeing those #'s go down, I had to go with the obvious choice. Duh.

We're now at day 3, no cigarettes. I almost faltered last night...almost. I was bringing some clean glasses back down to the bar in our basement, and as I was peering underneath the first bar shelf, I found an entire pack of my brother's cigarettes just sitting there. They were calling my name..."Kelly...smoke me. Just one...it won't hurt ya. You don't have to tell anybody." I picked them up...held them up to my nose and smelled them. I glanced at the lighter sitting just inches from my hand. I set them down, said no, and walked away. 3 days, no cigarettes. Yay.

Just wanted to give you a quick update...unfotunately my work isn't going to do itself.

Damn.

Happy Thursday!

I didn't want to escape from the warm comfort of my bed this morning...not for anything in the world. I woke up at 6am...and it was like...maybe 12 degrees out. I used the bathroom...stepped on the scale (as I will be doing every morning...no more surprises after not stepping on after a week)...and the scale was down 7lbs since yesterday. The moral of that story....only step on first thing in the morning...naked, and after your morning whiz. (Sorry...but what better way to say it, ya know?)

I walked back upstairs to my room...looked at my bed...and almost convinced myself to climb back in...

BUT I DIDN'T. I froze my ass off driving to the gym...but I made it there. It was a slow start...I haven't worked out in almost 2 weeks...but I made it through about 35 minutes of lifting...and I tried to work at 30 second intervals like I used to at Curves...to keep my heart rate up. I was pretty sweaty when I finished...and finally felt good.

So, here I am back at work...sipping my green tea (I'm going to try and quit coffee too...just because coffee and cigarettes always went hand in hand for me.) And...as far as smoking goes...I'm still on the wagon.

Yay.

Alright folks...there's work to be done.

Damn.

Happy January 2nd.

January 1st, 2008. Damn…it couldn’t have taken longer to arrive, I swear. I spent the last 2 weeks inflicting to much calorie, alcohol and nicotine based damage upon myself that it was no surprise to step on the scale today and see 272. Yeah, two hundred and seventy two fucking pounds. Wasn’t she just 254 like 2 weeks ago, you ask? Yup. Talk about taking things to extremes. But, what can I do? I stayed on plan today. I drank…well, not nearly as much water as is my goal, but I got at least 64oz in. No exercise…I’ll be honest…I was way too hungover. But on a positive note, no cigarettes. And it was tough, believe me. I spent New Years at the bf’s place out in Indiana….and had to make the 65mile trek home without cigarettes. It was weird….I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’m happy though. I thought I’d gave on the first day. But I didn’t. Yay.

I’m gonna hit the gym tomorrow morning before work…first time in 2 weeks…stay on plan…go for day 2 without a cigarette…and just try and have a good day. Oh…and I’ll be stepping on the scale first thing in the morning. I guarantee it’ll show 4lbs less than today…since I weighed in at 8pm. (Every little mind trick like that helps.)

Goodnight!

Well, here we are. December 26th, 2007. I'm sitting in my basement at the computer...day after Christmas. I'm sick...and completely overstuffed on cookies, brownies...you know, the typical holiday sweets and other sugar laden crap. Nothing new for me. Willpower around Christmas? Please. That's something that's simply not comprehended in my mind. But alas, what can I do about that now? What's done is done.

So here we are on the verge of 2008. I'm sure if you were to take a gander back at my last posts of 2005 and 2006, you'd see that I listed my resolutions, as I usually do at this time of year. Did any of them come true? Nope. Not one. Have I lost weight this year? Yeah...up and down the same 5-10lbs all year. After the past week, I'm sure I'm back up to 260. But...I'm not going to step on the scale...not today. I'll step on January 1st. Just to see. I need a starting point.

I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few days...about weight loss. (No shit? Yeah, I know.) One of the key factors with weight loss I hear about all the time is this: you must change your lifestyle. And for the longest time, I always thought I did. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I never truly did. Despite the fact that I would get up early and workout every morning...I still work a desk job where I sit on my ass for 8hrs a day...which I have no choice about. I still lead a sedentary lifestyle...especially when it comes to the weekends. I find ways to cheat with my healthy eating and exercise, and still expect to see miracles when it comes time to step on the scale. Well of course you won't see them, genius. If you eat healthy all week, and the gorge on beer and burgers on the weekends, you'll break even at best. And that's not what I'm working towards. I'm working towards healthy, and happy. I'm working towards 150...hell, at this point, 175 would be fantastic. Anyhoo, back to the lifestyle changes.

Yesterday on the ride out to Christmas with the fam, I had a talk with Jonah (the bf). I told him all about my need to change my lifestyle, and told him that since he basically IS my weekend life, that I need his full support..not only emotionally..but I need him to do these things with me. I told him that we can't go to the bars every weekend and drink ourselves into a stupor.....then wake up Sunday morning, and go to the nearest fast food venue and stuff outselves until we pop. I told him that we were going to be more active in 2008...actually get out of the house and do things that require some physical exertion. (He told me that he wants to lose weight too..so what better time, ya know?) It's time for us to quit our "Dan and Roseanne" lifestyle...and be more like...well hell...name a happy healthy TV couple. Can you think of one? I certainly can't.

I've been sitting here calculating #'s...and as much as I hate to look at numbers as a goal, they really do give you something to work towards. So here they are...both in realistic 2lbs a week goals, as well as my semi-far fetched 10lbs a month goals. It certainly puts things into perspective, doesn't it?

REALISTIC (2LBS./WEEK) FAR-FETCHED (10LBS./MONTH)

Jan. 31st--- 252 Jan. 31st--- 250
Feb. 29th--- 244 Feb. 29th--- 240
Mar. 31st--- 236 Mar. 31st--- 230
Apr. 30th--- 228 Apr. 30th--- 220
May 31st--- 220 May 31st--- 210
Jun. 30th--- 212 Jun. 30th--- 200
Jul. 31st--- 204 Jul. 31st--- 190
Aug. 31st--- 196 Aug. 31st--- 180
Sep. 30th--- 188 Sep. 30th--- 170
Oct. 31st--- 180 Oct. 31st--- 160
Nov. 30th--- 172 Nov. 30th--- 150
Dec. 31st--- 164 Dec. 31st--- AT GOAL

Now as we can see, the first column certainly seems much more attainable than the second column...but hell...crazier things have happened, you know?

As far as my diet and exercise program go, I'm not 100% sure what I'm going to follow, but I'm playing around with ideas. I think I'm still going to stick with my recently out of business LA Weight Loss plan...it worked for me the first time around...and if I stick with it in 08, I don't see why that won't work again. As for exercise...

I'm still not sure. I told myself that I'm going to use the Power 90 DVD's I have...but for the love of pete...I hate them. They get soooo boring. Seriously, so boring. After 2 weeks I just can't tolerate them anymore. As much as those infomercials are completely convincing...I just can't do them. When I first started this whole adventure almost 4 years ago (yeah, 4 years ago, I know...)I was going to Curves 3x a week...and that was it. Sadly, the Curves by my house has gone out of business...so I'm playing around with some possible substitutions. I've found that when I go at it alone, I don't get much accomplished. But when I have a set rotation to work through (ie, circuit training) I get the job done, and I know I've done it correctly.
I think I'll take a drive by the place called Figures (a Curves ripoff, but still in business nonetheless) after I go for my adjustment today.

Speaking of the chiropractor and other health related issues, my other biggest goal is quitting smoking. Yeah, I'm gonna do it this time. I mean it. In fact, I'm looking forward to it. I'm 26, and it's scary to think that I've been smoking for 10 years now. Crazy, isn't it? Anyhoo, I'm tired of feeling like shit...and wasting the money. In fact, I think I'll start putting $12.00 a week into my piggy bank (at least what I'd spend on cigarettes in a week) and see how quickly that adds up. The state of Illinois goes non-smoking Jauary 1st, and thus, so will I. It'll be tough...especially on my ride home from work...but I'm going to do it this time. Damnit.

My only other goal for 2008, and this seems silly after all of these big changes...but it's still one I'm going to do...I'm going to read a book a month. Yeah, I know..it sounds so lame in comparison...but I'm going to do it.

Well folks, I think that's it. I'm sure I'll think of more as I go through my day, but those are the big ones...the ones that I'm going to need help with the most. If anybody out there in the viewing audience wants to check in with me every so often to keep me in check, I'd greatly appreciate it.

Here we are, to a great 2008!

It's time for a revolution, Baby!

If you can, do.
If you can't, sell.

I'm not going to get into the reasons for that statement, but let's just sum it up as this: with the exception of a very select FEW, salesmen are THE lowest life form on Earth. THE LOWEST. There's nothing like making a living by lying to people, cheating people, and degrading people for your own benefit. Yeah, real admirable. Come to think of it, there right down there with the lawyers and bankers, aren't they?

How funny.

There, I feel better.

Down an additional 3.6lbs, bringing me to a total of 5 for the week. I definitely CANNOT complain about that. Yay!

The smoking thing…it’s a slow process, but I’m getting there. I’m now at about 5 a day…this is down from close to a pack a day. (For all you non-smokers, there are 20 in a pack. Believe it or not, there are honestly people in the world who don’t know that. I thought it was a birthright…)

Other than weight stuff…I’ve been having some weird arm pain in my left arm for the past 2 weeks…it’s my left arm, so of course, I think the worst. I made myself an appt. with my doc for this upcoming Tues..but it was really getting on my nerves this afternoon, so I went to the immediate care center by my house. (Not quite the ER, but you still get to see a doc when you can’t get into your own doc’s office right away.) They ran some tests, did an EKG and a chest xray…and of course, the whole time I’m convinced it’s a heart attack (yeah, a 2 week long heart attack, I know…) or something heart related. You can’t help but think that you’ll inevitably inherit your parent’s health problems…and I’ve always been worried about my heart. Well, my heart is fine. In fact (I mentioned to the doc that my mother had an enlarged heart, reason being she needed the heart transplant) the doc told me that my heart was small for someone of my size. Is that a good thing?

So…

We deciphered that I am WAY TO FUCKING STRESSED OUT (imagine that) and he prescriped me Xanax. I’ve taken one so far. It chilled me out. But it’s not something I really want to become dependant on. Luckily, I’m not an addictive personality like that. Except for chocolate. But that can’t kill you. Ok, I guess in a really long term, deranged sort of way it can…but you know what I mean.

So…we’ll see if that helps. I still think something else is wrong…like a pinched nerve, so we’ll see when I go see my PCP, (isn’t it funny how the acronym for a general dr. is the same as a street drug? Odd…), and see what see has to say.

Well folks, it’s off to finish my housework and put up my Christmas window stickies. It’s a shitty day here in good ol Chicago…f*ing freezing out and complete with a lovely ice/snow storm. Gotta love the mid-west!

Well, I feel like a bad dog who’s walking around with its tail between its legs…I did the unthinkable today, and I still can’t get over the fact that I did it. I swore that I would leave and never look back…but I did it. I’m still in shock myself…I don’t think it has quite hit me yet. (Dramatic, I know.) Let me back track a bit…

About 2 weeks ago I received a phone call from a # I wasn’t familiar with. Fearing it was this dentist’s office that has been stalking me to make an appt (I’m lame. Yes. Something I’m not afraid to admit.) I didn’t answer. A moment later, I received a voicemail. I called it up and listened. It went something like this:

“Hi Kelly, this is “girl with a really preppy name that talks like oh my god way too fast and uses the word ‘like’ too many times in one sentence.” calling from Pure Weight Loss, formerly L.A. Weight Loss. (You know, the evil evil place I’ve discussed on numerous occassions in my blogs.) I’m calling today with a really special offer to you, our former client (because our business is doing terribly, possibly because we work on commision, and must restort to high pressure tactics and motto’s such as “the more they cry, the more they’ll buy”…just a guess?). When you first started here, you paid for 86 weeks of weight loss, (and basically signed away yours, as well as the soul of your firstborn child). When you left, you had used only 1/2 of your weeks. What we’re doing is offering all your weeks back to you for only $50.00. Yes, that’s right, 86 weeks of weight loss in our center for only $50.00. What’s the catch you ask? Absolutely nothing. We just want to see your bright, shining face back in here. (Ok, perhaps I creatively edited that last sentence…but you get the idea.)

I instantly deleted the message, tossed the phone on the passenger seat on my car, and giggled to myself. “Yeah right.”

Fast forward to last night. For whatever reason, I started to really think about my weight loss, or lack there of. I was thinking about how I’ve been with Weight Watchers 2 times now, and how both times, I’ve seen very small progress…and how the scale always seems to creep back up on me. Now please don’t get me wrong. I love WW, and feel it’s an excellent program…I give them major props. At the same time, I realized that it just wasn’t for me. So I cancelled my membership with them. On a whim, I did it. After I did that, I researched a few other options. I looked at the Medifast website. Nutrisystem. Hell, even good ol Slim Fast. But nothing was really clicking.

And then I remembered the message from “talks too fast girl.” So, against every fiber of my being, I called her today. I’m still not 100% sure why I did, but I did. And I laid everything out on the table. I told her how I was extremely successful with their program, but their lack of professionalism, as well as used car salesman tactics were a major turnoff. I asked her what the catch for signing back up was, and she assured me there wasn’t one. I said I’d think about it, and perhaps stop on in after work. She said they were open until 6…and I said, “Well, nevermind then. I work until 5:30, and can’t possibly make it there by 6.” To which she replied, “I’ll wait for you. Just come on by.”

So I went.

And I signed up.

Again.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Yeah, I know.

It was so crazy walking back into that place after 2 years of avoiding it like the plague. I felt like George Costanza from Seinfeld after he got back together with his old girlfriend Susan…after swearing he was done with her the first time.

But I did it.

And you know why? After all is said and done…after every crazy drink, powder, pudding..insane diet I’ve tried….after every point, portion and calorie I’ve counted in my life, this is the one thing that has worked. It took my 2 years to realize it, but it worked. I lost 100lbs. 100 frickin lbs with these clowns.

And I’ll do it again.

110 to be exact.

110lbs to get to my goal.

Yeah, I weighed in on their scale at 260.4. Have some more pumpkin pie, eh Kelly?

So here we are, back at square one. But Christ Almighty, I’ll do it this time. I’ve done it once with these people, and by god, I’ll do it again. Time is slowly ticking away…why wait any longer?

Here goes nothing…

CHICAGO SLANG


1. Grachki (grach'-key): Chicagoese for "garage key" as in, "Yo, Theresa, waja do wit da grachki? Howmy supposta cut da grass if I don't git intada grach?"

2. Sammich: Chicagoese for sandwich. When made with sausage, it's a sassage sammich; when made with shredded beef, it's an Italian Beef sammich, a local delicacy consisting of piles of spicy meat in a perilously soggy bun.

3. Da: This article is a key part of Chicago speech, as in "Da Bears" or "Da Mare" -- the latter denoting Richard M. Daley, or Richie, as he's often called.

4. Jewels: Not family heirlooms or a tender body region, but a popular name for one of the region's dominant grocery store chains. "I'm goin' to the Jewels to pick up some sassage."

5. Field's: Marshall Field, a prominent Chicago department store. Also Carson Pirie Scott, another major department store chain, is simply called " Carson 's."

6. Tree: The number between two and four. "We were lucky dat we only got tree inches of snow da udder night."

7. Over by dere: Translates to "over by there," a way of emphasizing a site presumed familiar to the listener. As in, "I got the sassage at the Jewels down on Kedzie, over by dere."

8. Kaminski Park : The mispronounced name of the ballpark where the Chicago White Sox (da Sox) play baseball. Comiskey Park was renamed U.S. Cellular Field (da Cell)

9. Frunchroom: As in, "Get outta da frunchroom wit dose muddy shoes." It's not the "parlor." It's not the "living room." In t he land of the bungalow, it's the "frunchroom," a name! d derive d, linguists believe, from "front room."

10. Use: Not the verb, but the plural pronoun 'you!' "Where use goin'?"

11. Downtown: Anywhere near The Lake, south of The Zoo (Lincoln Park Zoo)
and north of Soldier Field.

12. The Lake: Lake Michigan (What other lake is there?) It's often used by local weathermen, "cooler by The Lake."

14. Braht: Short for Bratwurst. "Gimme a braht wit kraut."

15. Goes: Past or present tense of the verb "say." For example, "Den he goes, 'I like this place'!"

16. Guys: Used when addressing two or more people, regardless of each individual's gender.

17. Pop: A soft drink. Don't say "soda" in this town. "Do ya wanna canna pop?"

18. Sliders: Nickname for hamburgers from White Castle , a popular Midw estern burger chain. "Dose sliders I had last night gave me da runs."

19.. The Taste: The Taste of Chicago Festival, a huge extravaganza in Grant Park featuring samples of Chicagoland cuisine which takes place each year around the Fourth of July holiday.

20. "Jeetyet?": Translates to, "Did you eat yet?"

21. Winter and Construction: Punch line to the joke, "What are the two seasons in Chicago ?"

22. Cuppa Too-Tree: is Chicagoese for "a couple, two, three" which really means "a few." For example, "Hey Mike, dere any beerz left in da cooler over by dere?"
"Yeh, a cuppa too-tree."

23. 588-2300: Everyone in Chicago knows this commercial jingle and the carpet company you'll get if you call that number -- Empire!

24. Junk Dror: You will usually find the 'junk drawer' in the kitchen filled to the brim with miscellaneous, but very important, junk.

25. Southern Illinois : Anything south of I-80. This is where Smothers' is from....


26. Expressways: The Interstates in the immediate Chicagoland area are usually known just by their 'name' and not their Interstate number: the Dan Ryan ("da Ryan"), the Stevenson, the Kennedy (da "Kennedy"), the Eisenhower (da "Ike"), and the Edens (just "Edens" but Da Edens" is acceptable).

27. Gym Shoes: The rest of the country may refer to them as sneakers or running shoes but Chicagoans will always call them gym shoes! =============



This is what Jeff Foxworthy has to say about Chicago .

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through
May, you live in Chicago

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you live in Chicago

If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you live in
Chicago .

If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you live in Chicago

If "Vacation" means going anywhere south of I-80 for the weekend, you live in Chicago .

If you measure distance in hours, you live in Chicago .

If you have switched from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back
again, you live in Chicago .

If you can drive 75 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging
blizzard without flinching, you live in Chicago .

If you carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you live in Chicago

If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you live in Chicago

If the speed limit on the highway is 55 mph -- you're going 80 and
everybody is passing you, you live in Chicago

If driving is better in the winter because the pot holes are filled
with snow, you live in Chicago .

If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and
road construction! , you li ve in Chicago .

If you have more miles on your snow blower than your car, you live in Chicago

If you find 10 degrees "a little chilly", you live in Chicago .

How dare I get my period on Halloween? How dare one of my co-workers visiting from NY bring me an infamous ‘black and white cookie’? How dare I get the sugar cravings at 3pm, and eat everything in the office that wasn’t nailed down? How dare that skinny blonde chick standing behind me in my sculpting class tonight show up with full hair and make up, not break a sweat, and still have lip gloss on at the end? Ugh.

Needless to say, it’s been a bad day. Bad is an understatement. Terrible. I was so proud of myself yesterday…went to my class…ate well througout the day…even found that I wasn’t nearly as hungry as normal. I guess that was just the calm before the storm. I have been nothing but a ravenous monster today, shoveling in the junk like I was going to be stranded on a desert island for the next month. Why oh why oh why must there be a “time of the month?” And to top it off, why does the picture perfect blonde chick have to make me feel a billion times worse about myself. Perhaps if I wasn’t full force ragging it today, she wouldn’t have affected me as much, but she did. During class, we were lying on our mats, doing a stretch. I look over at her and cringe as I see her PERFECT little flat stomach…then for whatever reason (self torture, I suppose) look down at myself. Mt. Stomach I should call it. It feels like no matter how hard I try, I will never EVER come close to even looking as remotely good as she does. Maybe if I got my jaw wired shut…

I just hate feeling like this. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. Nothing. When you’re up, you’re way up…and when you’re down…you fall hard. And it seems nearly impossible to get yourself back up again. With each bite of cavity inducing chocolate that passed through my mouth, I felt like a failure.

Sorry folks, it’s been a bad one. I’m off to bed.

It was Christmas of 2001. I came home from my relatives house to retire to the ever-apealing world of AOL chatrooms. It wasn't something I was really proud of at the time...but that's what I did. I signed on, entered my favorite chatroom known as "ChicagoBBW." For those who are unfamiliar, BBW stands for Big Beautiful Woman. I never much cared for that term. I thought it was simply a copout for fat women who were too lazy to do something about it. I thought I was different. I thought I was much "cooler" than the typical broad you'd find parusing this room at 1 am. Sadly, I don't think I was much different. I faced the same lot in life they all did: size discrimination. Regardless of how fucking cool I thought I was...how funny and intelligent I may have been, we all had one thing in common; we were fat. The beauty of the bbw chatroom was that you could be yourself without people judging you based solely on what you looked like. You could actually get to know somebody, and let them get to know you on the inside, before you had to shock the hell out of them with what you looked like on the outside. I don't even have time to begin to tell you how many people I met from the internet. Seriously. Too many. Luckily I was a pretty good judge of character, and I knew when I would get a "weird feeling" from somebody. Now that I think about it, I got really lucky. I could have been a story on the 9 o'clock news....somebody found my raped and dismembered body on the side of the road. Luckily, I that was never the case. Now, back to Christmas.

I was sitting at the computer, chatting with my usual "friends" when I received this "im." (Instant message for the AOL not-so-inclined.) I checked out the guys profile, and it said that he was from Indiana, so I instantly ignored it, and went about my business. Oh, maybe 15 minutes later he im'ed me again...I figured I had nothing else better going on, so I decided to talk to him. We began with the usual pleasantries...asked general things about each other. I could tell from the start that there was something different about this guy...and that we got along well immediately. We chatted online for maybe an hour...and against my better judgement, asked for his telephone # so we could move the conversation to the phone. (Keep in mind it was roughly 2am at this point). So, I called him, and we ended up talking for 2 hours. Normally a conversation that started via the internet was not the most comfortable...but there was something different this time. We talked about the past...current events...embarrassing moments...our hopes and dreams....we talked about it all. By 4am, we were both exhausted, but neither one of us wanted to hang up the phone. Finally, after numerous promises of talking later that day, we hung up. (I also asked him to write down everything he was feeling...and he did).

The next day, I awoke around 1 pm...and immediately signed onto AOL in hopes of seeing him there. Lo and behold,he was. He called me about 15 minutes later,and we talked for 20 mins...mainly talking about how great our conversation was from the previous night. We were so cute...acting like we were in Jr. High...completely smitten with each other, but both of us too afraid to say anything. The conversation ended, we said our goodbyes, and went about our respective day.

December the 27th I returned back to my apartment at school, loaded down with my Christmas loot. While putzing around the apt, putting things away and what have you, he called...around midnight or so. At the time, he was a pizza delivery guy, so these hours were normal for him. We chatted for a few minutes, and half jokingly I said to him, "You should come on out and see me." I wasn't expecting much of a response, considering the time, and the fact that he was a 2 hour drive from me. So when he said "ok," I was a little caught off guard. I gave him my address, hung up, and immediately started to "get myself ready." This involved calling up my best friend and screaching into the phone "HE'S COMING OVER..OH MY GOD HE'S COMING OVER." To which she replied, "Ok Kelly...tell me about this one. Ok, sounds semi-normal. Call me after he gets there so I know you're still alive." (These were typical conversations between the two of us. No really, they were.) So...I took a shower...prettied myself up...(which wasn't the easiest thing in the world. I was probably close to my heaviest at this point in time...and I remember what I wore that night: a grey Nike t-shirt and a pair of pj pants from Old Navy with polar bears on them...sexy, wasn't it? But, being the size that I was, I really didn't have much to work with. Alas, I resigned myself to PJ's. Needless to say, I wasn't going to be gracing the cover of PlayBoy any time soon.

Well, what seemed like hours had passed, and I had still seen nor heard not a peep from this boy. According to my calculations, it should have taken him 2 hours to get to my apt....and every time I looked at the clock, it was getting closer to 3am. (He should have been there around 2am..."he must have stood me up. Surprise surprise.") I tried calling him a handful of times, to no avail.

And then I heard the knock.

I looked through the peephole, and there he stood, Mr. Jonah. I remember him wearing some grey matching sweatsuit, and brown boots. I rememeber that distinctly because I thought to myself "Why are you wearing boots and sweats?" But I digress.

I slowly inched the door open, and the first thing I asked him was, "Ummm...how did you know what apt# I lived in? I never told you."

To which he replied, "I tried calling your cell a dozen times, but it kept going straight to voicemail. I was NOT going to drive all the way out here and have you stand me up. So I called my house, woke up my dad, had him look on the caller ID to find out your last name...and then I looked on the mailboxes to see what apt you lived in. So...here I am."

I felt like an ass. The whole time I was thinking he was standing me up...yet it was nothing more than a case of having no cell phone service. Technology, gotta love it.

Mr. Jonah came in...we sat down on the couch, and of all things, we started watching CNN. I don't have a clue why...but we did...we didn't know what else to do...because you could cut the sexual tension in that room with a thread, that's just how thick it was. To be honest, I don't think we said more than 10 words to each other before the making out commenced. (Hey...it had been months...close to a year...can you blame me?) I remember his lips being harsh...the taste of tobacco...yet the yearning and passion behind each and every kiss. Eventually things moved on to the bedroom...(didn't I just say it had been months? Don't judge. And name calling isn't necessary, either!) Things were wonderful. Passionate, sweaty, and wonderful. (And to appease your inquisitive little minds...No...we did not consumate the relationship that night. I waited a whopping 3 weeks for that! Please...I'm a lady! ;)

Jonah and I ended up staying up until about 9am...when our hunger (for food) got the best of us, and we ended up going to this little diner down the block from my apt. After breakfast, we came back, and fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow. It had been a loooong night.

Sadly, Mr. Jonah had to leave me that afternoon, as he had to work later that evening. I was sad, but I was condfident that we'd see eachother again. We said our goodbyes, and he left. I remember lying down on the couch, and feeling like I was floating on a cloud. I was giddy. For the first time ever, I was truly excited about somebody. And for good reason.

3 days later, Jonah came back out to good ol' De Kalb, IL to join my friends and I for a New Year's Eve celebration. It was pretty low key...so everybody had a chance to meet him. He arrived just before midnight..and he was my first real midnight kiss. I was completely smitten. :)

A few hours later I was sitting next to him and a friend on the couch, when out of nowhere he asked me to be his girlfriend. I was a bit surprised...I didn't think you asked a question like that once you left high school. But, it worked. I said yes. We kissed. It was cute. (Almost after school special cute...or Disney Channel cute.) ;)

So, January 1st, 2008, we will have been together 6 years. Yeah, 6 frickin years. There have been times that I would have strangled him...punched him in the face...mamed him...and I'm sure his feelings aren't too far from mine, either. But for some reason or another, we love each other. Jonah has seen me through some of the hardest times of my life...and I'm not sure if anybody else would have stuck around after everything. But he has. And despite all the BS between us...fights...crying spells...and utter craziness...we truly do love each other. Perhaps someday, we'll get married. Perhaps not. Regardless of whatever happens in life, we are both confident in the fact that we've found our soulmates...or at least somebody who can put up with our shit. Who knows? =)

It's 4:10am. I'm awake. I've been awake since 1:40am, when I awoke to use the bathroom. I ate. I tried to sleep. I tried even harder. It's 4:12am. I was supposed to wake up at 6am. I went to bed at 11:30. I've had 2 hours of sleep. I'm not going to get anymore. I've tried ever harder to fall asleep. I've been lying here going absolutely insane. I don't want to be awake. I don't want to face another shitty day. I don't know how to quiet my mind. That's why I can't sleep. My poor old dog has to have surgery in a few hours, and I'm worried about her. I'm worried about my lack of money, and the money the bank basically stole from me. I'm worried about the piece of pie I ate when I went downstairs. I'm worried about the cookies I ate when I went downstairs. I'm worried that I'm never going to be able to stop eating sweets in the middle of the night. I'm worried that it's going to completely take over my life, and any chances of me ever losing this weight are going to go right down the drain. I'm worried about turning 26 tomorrow. I don't want to be 26. I like 25. You sound old enough to be mature, but young enough to still be cool. I'm worried about a lot of things in life...things I probably shouldn't have to worry about at such a young age. But alas, I can't seem to help myself. It's sad that my worries have kept me up most of the night. Thank god I only have a half day at work. Perhaps I can come home and get some sleep then. Perhaps I'll try one more time right now. It's 4:20am. I'm still awake.

It's Friday morning...I just returned from the gym after a great workout, and I'm already in good spirits. I step into my shower and begin my routine. After a few minutes, I notice a tiny ant crawling along the top of the bathtub, trying to make his way up the wall and out of the steam filled hell he's currently caught in. I'm not a big fan of bugs, but ants generally don't bother me, so I let him be. A few minutes later, I saw the little critter get caught in a downward stream and head for the drain. Not wanting to impede upon his lot in life, I did nothing. As I continued my shower, I glanced to the back of the tub, and there he was, struggling to make his way up the side again. The little bugger had fought his way through torture and got back to what I'm assuming was his starting point. Again, I did nothing. Moments later I again noticed that he fell back in the tub, and this time he appeared as though he was about to give up, and was heading for a quick death down the sewer pipes. I figured that was what was simply meant to be for him, and once more left him alone and finished up my shower. After stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel, I turned to face the mirror, and what to my wondering eyes should appear (no, not a miniature sleigh) but the ant. This critter fought for his life. One minute he was up, and the next minute he was back down for the count. But he got up again....he fought...and didn't give up. It took a while, but he reached his goal. He crossed that finish line and managed to find freedom outside the watery confines of my bathtub. That little ant had set a goal for himself, and because of his endless persistence, he achieved that goal. :)

I think we can all take a little bit of guidance from this unwelcome guest in my shower. We are all going to fall down, but we need to get back up. There will be highs, and ultimately, there will be lows. But like the ant, if you keep your focus on that finish line, and all the glory and success that comes along with it, you'll get there. It might not be easy, and we will definitely have to struggle along the way, but I promise, we'll get there.