At 5pm I let out a little “woot woot!!” simply because it was 5pm. I then continued to work until 6pm
At 6pm I left work and mozy-ed on over to the gym
I ran like a guinea pig on a wheel from 6:30pm to 7pm
7pmto 8pm I pumped some serious iron with The Trainer
At 8pm I got weighed
At 8:02pm my trainer had such a look of disappointment on his face when he saw I had gained 0.2 pounds since last Monday morning it hurt my soul to see. I wanted to tell him, “but last week I had been weighed at 6:45AM AND even though I lost no weight, I’ve lost 4% of my body fat (wahoo! I’m sitting at 31.4% now) in 2 weeks,” but it sounded like an excuse, so I didn’t say anything.
At 9:00pm I showered
At 9:30pm I paid $104 for a grocery cart that had ZERO carbs in it, which is quite the feat because holla! I was ‘starving’ when I went shopping
At 10:00pm I made myself a tuna salad
At 10:30pm I tried on my new FCUK dress for my party on Saturday
At 11:00pm I watched television and caught up with blogs
You: “Wait, what? Didn’t you go on a date with Gym Guy last night? But you woke up with The Crush… am I missing something? I’m confused.”
Me:Oh God, there’s no way to sugar coat my night; it was ridic. Actually.
I met Gym Guy last night for what I thought was dinner and drinks; wrong. It was only drinks, and because I’m a tool and hate eating alone and in front of guys, I couldn’t bring myself to order food, especially when he wasn’t eating… that’s all important because… well… it directly correlated with me getting too drunk for my own good.
Anywho, the date itself was actually pretty good. Lots of conversation, no dead spots, but I could tell he liked me way more than I liked him. He admired my heels, (major points), but also kept ordering me pints when I told him 3 was my max (I was on an empty stomach (see above) and was already feeling tipsy), but he kept ordering them (lost major points), he also DIDN’T EVEN OFFER TO PAY, so I was stuck with the $60 tab (lots, and lots of points lost here - at least offer!). We made out. I was drunk. He texted me. I didn’t answer. I feel bad.
After the date (11ish) I met up with all my guy friends at the local pub where pitchers were flowing, hence I ended up at The Ex-Crush’s place. We made out. (yes, yes this would be the 2nd guy in the same night, don’t look at me, I’m embarressed). I didn’t sleep with The Ex-Crush, we just canoodled but I’m pleased to report, besides being friends, I felt no romatic-connection with him.
So yes, that brings you up to date on my apparently scandalous? life. I’m seeing New Moon tonight with The Ex-Crush and my BFF and her guy (who is The Ex-Crush’s housemate)… it’s not a double date. Nope, just a couple and their besties, at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
The below is from one of my absolute favourite blogs, I’m Erika: Refreshingly Honest - seriously she’s awesome. Start reading. I want, nay need, this to be my mentality SO BADLY. The Goal: To be able to co-sign this within my 25th year.
"Guys should chase after girls, not the other way around. Yes, you could argue that men like to be hit on, but showing interest vs. fawning over a man like a puppy dog to a cheese biscuit has never been deemed cute.
It’s not that I believe we’re in the 1950s or anything (although sometimes I swear I wish it could be like it was back then…) but I firmly believe that if a guy likes you, he will be with you. It is that easy.
There won’t be mixed signals, there won’t be excuses (trust me, girls, EVERYONE has heard the “well, maybe he’s shy,” “he just got over a break-up,” “maybe he’s scared to commit,” “he wants to take things slow,” “[insert another stereotypical excuse here]“). If a guy likes you, he will be with you and no excuse in the planet will get in his way.
Let me repeat that because I want to make sure you all get it: IF A GUY LIKES YOU, HE WILL BE WITH YOU.
We need to stop feeding ourselves excuses. It’s not right. Yes, we can still pine over the guy even if he doesn’t chase after us–but we pine over them in the privacy of our own bedroom, with the two men in our lives who will NEVER let us down, Ben and Jerry.
It’s not that we don’t want to chase after these guys. Of course we want to. Fuck, it hurts that they don’t want to be with us!
BUT if a man can’t recognize how absolutely fabulous I am…well then, that’s a man who is obviously not smart enough to be with me.”
I woke up this morning with a sick feeling in my stomach; something was off, but, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why. Literally, I lay there and thought really hard about everything, but still couldn’t remember what happened. Finally, it hit me, oh righhhhtttt, I got stood up last night.
Well folks, shit happens.
I lived, and my God, I learnt. That Boy is done like dinner, I am so over it, I am so over him. I rolled out of bed and curled my hair, slipped on (because fuck yes, it’s slightly big on me) my black, high waisted skirt, and new, high Tory Burch heels, I put effort into my make up and wore my favourite earrings. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not still upset/annoyed/frustrated, but I made the executive decision this morning that a) I’m so much better than him. Actually. And b) fuckers going to regret this one day (fine, I know b) isn’t a healthy point of view, but really he’s going to).
I bought myself a non-fat, grande, gingerbread latte from Starbizzle this morning, my absolute favourite drink ever (God bless Starbuck’s Christmas menu) and plan on having a super, healthy, fabulous, eating day followed by 2 hours at the gym tonight. GOD DAMN, I’m not going to waste November 26, 2009, today is my day.
Oh and in other news HAPPY THANKSGIVING YOU AMERICAN FOLKS, YOU. I? am jealous. Now get back to the turkey and pumpkin pie y’all.
Fuck. I can say that right? This is my blog, this is where I can write whatever I want. Fuck, Fuck, FUCK.
The worst part about all this? I wanted to eat, nay I did eat, yet at the same time I wanted to be skinny more than ever, I wanted to be skinny, and beautiful, and make him regret it, make him see he was wrong.
As I put food in my mouth, tears came to my eyes thinking about how I wanted to lose weight, how I needed to lose weight.
I blamed my weight.
I’m blaming my weight.
It is my weight.
I’m sure of it.
It’s always my weight.
It’s simple; No body likes a fat girl. It doesn’t matter how funny, how beautiful, how nice… it doesn’t.
Sometimes I leave things out when I blog, simply because I didn’t find the time to write something down, my mind can’t wrap itself around a situation in order to explain it correctly, or I’m nervous of being judged…
I came under a little fire yesterday for choosing The Crush (aka Guy Who-Ignored-Me-Friday-Night-and-Has-Made-Some-Douche-Like-Moves-in-His-Time) over The Subway Guy (aka Nice-Guy-Who-Seems-to-Actually-Like-Me).
Let me explain, although I am fully aware I don’t need to do this;
My group of friends works like this; we’re awesome, and funny and awesome I am obsessed with hanging out with these people and if I go 24 hours without talking or seeing one of them I go into withdrawal. We are constantly laughing, and doing stupid, yet somehow, awesome things. The Crush is in this group. When I’m around him I laugh to the point of tears. Yes, he’s made some douche-like moves lately, but may I remind you of the drama that went down on Halloween; a girl told The Crush “E loves you and I’m forbidden to talk to you” ( I know, what a biii-attch) hence some of his recent ignoring me actions were justified, because, well, I came off CRAZY.
however, we’ve worked through that and now are friends who have awesome, funny, banter. I have no idea if the movie tonight is more than just two friends going to see a movie together… but.. well, I wanted to go… because, well yes, we’re friends and have a good time together… so sue me. Also he actually wanted to go last night, but I told him I was “busy,” hoping he’d think it was a date, even though it was the gym. I KNOW, I’M SUCH A GIRL.
Second also, all the awkwardness from Halloween only disappeared when The Crush found out I had been asked out and had been texting other boys… eek, I suppose this isn’t a good sign.
The Subway Guy
I’ll admit it; I’m a creeper, like a class-A creeper. I found him on facebook and omigod people, he had a 100% full, open profile on facebook (strike 1, because seriously yo, I think that’s weird), strike 2 was he had ‘single and ready to mingle’ on his profile, strike 3 was he LOVES clubbing, I do not, I’m more of a pub type of gal, strike 4 was his age; he’s 32. I’m 24 (shhh it doesn’t matter I turn 25 next week, shhh) and finally strike 5 was his photos; he was really hit or miss in them. OH GOD I AM SUCH A JUDGEMENTAL BITCH, but seriously… think buttoned up shirt, but with minimal buttons done up, think chest hair, think way too tanned, think bucket of grease in his hair. Eeeeek. All I’m saying is I could tell from his profile, he wasn’t the guy for me and wouldn’t fit in with my group of friends…
THIS IS NOT TO SAY I CANCELLED THE DATE. I’m still going to have dinner with him, because really, who am I to be judgmental and not give a person a chance? Exactly.
That’s my reasoning. I hope you now see it wasn’t all sunshine and flowers like I may have made it out to be.
1 hour of intense (and I mean intense) weights with my trainer, 1/2 an hour of running on the treadmill and a boy asking for my number on the way out the gym (I wasn’t interested at all, but still!!! eeeek!!!!)
What is happening? I am confused and blushing. Honestly, I feel like my life is a movie right now: things like this just don’t happen to people like me.
Currently: Just showered and smelling like my vanilla flavoured conditioner, eating a salsa, chicken salad, with my feet on the table and watching The Biggest Loser and smiling ear to ear simply because I’m me, and I like that.
I’m going to see New Moon with The Crush tomorrow night. He asked me. I said yes.
I also have a date with Subway Boy tomorrow night, which I’ll now have to move to another day.
WHO AM I? AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GIRL THAT NOBODY LIKED?
ed note: I actually have a post saved in my ‘draft’s’ all about how The Crush will now be referred to as The-Non-Crush-Friend as we’ve been in a good spot lately and he’s more a friend now than a crush. This stands true.
"Gee, Brain, what do you want to do tonight?" "The same thing we do every night, Pinky—try to lose some weight!"
I had a 1 hour meeting with my trainer last weekend where I was lectured, in a very science-y way, about nutrition and food and calories and fat…
To say I didn’t understand most of it is an understatement. Things I learnt:
I am fat because of my insulin levels
I need to keep my insulin levels low
A chocolate bar, and pretty much all other delicious carbs and sugar, will make my insulin high.
I need to eat more of the “right fats” (seeds, avocados, oils)
There is no such thing as a snack. Every time I eat it’s a meal
All meals must be made up of a) something that once had a face (ie protein), b) vegetables, c) fat (oils, seeds, etc)
Yup… so this is what I’m now trying to do. It’s hard. I love my snacks. I promised my trainer one week of eating all my meals with those requirements. Today is day 3. I’ve already failed (stupid. chocolate. chips. last. night. sitting. on. the. table. begging. me. to. eat. them. hence. it. wasn’t. my.fault.)
Today I’ve eaten a fruit bowl, a tuna salad and some cheese. (the cheese was also begging to be eaten). The plan tonight is to go to the gym after work, go grocery shopping and ONLY buy items that fit my requirements, watch the Biggest Loser FINALE, and create a facebook event for my 25th (omigod!) birthday party.
Just to Take Some of the Mystery Out of Tomorrow for You...
7:20am Apple and Scrambled Eggs
8:00am Meeting from hell
9:00am work/blog (duh)
12:30 Lunch (Salad from subway)
1:30 work/blog (duh)
5:00 Give God the glory, glory for being done work.
5:30 1h of a Cardio-Pump class at the gym
6:30 Rest, eat apple
7:00 Personal Training session
8:15 Walk Home
9:00 Grocery Shop
9:30 Make delicious healthy dinner
I know what you’re thinking… 'wow, E's life is sooo cool" what? that’s not at all what you were thinking? but.. but.. yea.. I got nothing. I’m trying to stay in this week and just have a quiet, healthy day tomorrow. Also, as all my friends suck, I think I may go see New Moon alone this week… if you’re judging me, I’m judging your.. wait… I’m judging me too.
And what a wonderful Monday morning it is! It is? It is! Why am I so chipper, when the sun has only been sky-high for a mere 3 hours? Oh you know, perhaps because I dragged my ass out of bed at 6:00am and have already completed a full body work out with my trainer, I repeat… a full body work out! AND because I weighed in at 164.6, which if I remember right, and-I-think-I-remember-right, is FOUR pounds down from last Wednesday.
Can I get a HELL-YEA?!
My apologies for Friday night’s post: who knows what you’ll find in the shadows of my mind… answer: emotional, weak(?) moments.
This week promises a date on Wednesday night with Subway Boy, two gym sessions with the trainer on Tuesday and Thursday, lots of tv watching (haven’t even watched TBL from last week, tisk tisk), catching up with The Sister who’s back from Mexico, laundry, cleaning, friends and generally being awesome all around.
Lots of photos to come today of the dinner party I co-hosted Saturday night. Get excited people, it’s the last week of November 2009, and more importantly my last week being 24!
There I was, standing on the subway platform, alone, at 1:20am. 4 minutes to go. I was bitter, sad, and annoyed for reasons I couldn’t explain. I thought about the bitterness of the blog post I was going to write when I get home, “this is it, this will always be it, this is my life, fuck. I’m the girl everybody likes, but nobody wants.” I was going to title the post ‘Drama Queen,’ because that’s exactly what i was being.
I had just left the bar alone, insisting that none of my friends followed me; I wanted them to, but would have been annoyed if they had. I wanted to be alone, but I wanted to talk. I was emotional and I didn’t know why, but in a moment of reasoning I wanted out of that bar so fast, my legs couldn’t carry me.
The tears were coming.
The crush was there. He didn’t talk to me once all night. He actually moved seats to sit away from me. I was neutral. That didn’t even annoy me. It wasn’t about him. It was about me. I’m still the same, stupid fucking girl I was last year, and the year before that, and the year before that. Couples, the entire fucking table was couples. Pairs. I stood alone. I always stand alone.
I am alone.
I felt like shit. I looked like shit. I sat on the subway and tried to get my mind off of things. I took my camera out and tried to clean the stickiness out from around the zoom. I accidentallytook a photo. I made an awkward, embarrassed face. I heard a boy laugh. I looked up.
My age, good looking. He smiled. I smiled back and apologized for taking the unintentional photo. He asked my name, I asked his. We shook hands. We spoke.
He asked for my number. I paused. I pondered. I gave it to him.
1:31am Hey, it’s J the guy you met on the subway. It was really nice to meet you. Did you get home o.k?
1:39am I did, thanks. I was impressed with your smoothness. Asking girls for their # on subways is the norm?
1:42am Thanks, actually no this is the first time I’ve ever asked a girl for her number on the subway, believe it or not. There was something about you that I couldn’t resist, so I had to ask because I wanted to see you again for more than a couple of minutes.
I want to type out, “and just like that my night changed,” but it didn’t. I still feel alone, like no body likes me, no body ever will.
The fat girl everybody looks through. That’s me, except now with a morsel of hope.
Last night I had my first, official personal training session with The Trainer. Awesome, it was awesome. I can hardly walk today and let’s just say, going to the washroom? extremely painful.
I told him about my HUGE goals.
Lose Weight. Be One Hundred and Twenty Five Pounds
Run a Marathon
He ran the ING half marathon in 1hour 28, or something ridiculous like that, and told me, “I’m 80% sure I’ll run the Chicago Marathon with you" which honestly MADE ME SO EXCITED!! The thought of having someone help me reach my goals is amazing, as I did the last 2 halves all alone.
Next Session. Monday at 7am. Yea.. think about that. Whoa.
So… I got prodded, and poked and eyed and measured yesterday in my personal training evaluation. I did the plank, I did push ups (ed note: tried to do push ups, as I couldn’t do one), I got my blood pressure taken (it’s perfect), my weight taken and my body fat taken. All in the name of holy-shit-I-want-to-be-skinny.
Have you ever gained 10 pounds in a second? Because I did… apparently my scale has been off by 10 pounds. I looked like such an idiot as I boldly stated, “oh I know it already, it’s 155lbs,” WRONG. I was WRONG.
I really don’t understand this as I’ve gone through TWO scales at home AND my parents scale I step onto occasionally, but apparently they’ve all been off because the scale at the gym yesterday settled on 168 big ones. The good news? I suppose I technically started at 200, which means I’ve still lost 32 pounds. Huh.
I’ll be switching to the new weight as every 2 weeks my ass will get prodded, and poked and eyed and measured and I want to be consistent.
Body Type: standard Gender: female Age: 24 Height: 5ft 4 in Weight: 168.6lb BMI: 28.9 BMR:1,573kcal (cal I can eat to maintain my weight a day) Fat %: 35.1 Fat Mass: 59.2lb (fat on the bod, it should be 36lbs) FFM: 109.4lb (everything, but fat) TBW: 80.0lb
This is going to be *that* post. Y’know? The post where I’m one day going to put a link back to and be like, “whoa… look how far I’ve come.” Every two weeks I’ll update these numbers and hopefully we’ll soon be seeing $3,000 of drastic improvement. I’m excited and nervous and looking forward to the blood, sweat and soul searching the next few months are sure to bring.
Wanna know a secret? I’m obsessed with perfection. Obsessed. All I want to be is perfect. What’s that? nobodies perfect? Yes, yes I know that, but I still for omigod-reasons-I-can’t-control want my life to be perfect and fabulous.
I’m still fat. Don’t look at me like that, I’m tired of defending my very obvious spare tire. I am not a car, yet I HAVE A SPARE TIRE PEOPLE! To be exact, 35% of my body is fat. It should be 22%. I know this, because my personal trainer told me this.
I want to be fabulous so much. I want the perfect house (wait.. check, I have one), I want the world’s greatest friends (whoa.. check mark again here), I want the perfect job (1/2 a check mark here… hello money, yet hello cliche financial people I work with), I want the perfect boyfriend (fail), I want the perfect body (insert epic fail here).
I spent $3,000 tonight on 6 months of personal training, 3 sessions a week. HOLY SHIT I feel like such a failure typing that out. Yes, I need help thatbadly. Wanna know my reasoning? I figured a boob job costs about $6,000. It would change your life, so boo yea! I’m totally getting a discount on a life changing ‘procedure,’ hence? I signed up! Looking back on it… that’s a lot of fucking money… and a stupid fucking way to justify it.
But money is money. Fat is fat. Help is help.
I’m terrified I’m going to fail even with this huge amount of support I’ve paid through the nose for.
My trainer kept asking me over, and over again, “Are you willing to give up things in your life and fully commit?” my obvious answer, was “yes! yes! yes!!!! Obviously! Duh” but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had just given him the obvious, mechanical answer I knew I was supposed to give.
Am I really willing to put in the work? Am I willing to give up things I love? Am I actually willing to say ‘no’?
Fuck, my heart is saying yes, but I hate how I can feel a slight doubt in the pit of my stomach.