Saturday, May 29, 2010


I gained 3lbs

277. Bleck.

Like I said, though, I'm back on track.

I've also delved into the writings of my second book again.

I don't know what to say here.

I'll be posting my updated photos on June 1st.

Buzzy's birthday is June 9th.

We have another family birthday on June 11th.

And another on the 27th.

June is a busy month here in this family.

I'll try and get my blogging mojo back.

But like I've said before: when I delve into my books my inspiration for anything else disappears.

So it'll likely be 'just the facts, ma'am'.

Until soon.

The Fat Chick

Thursday, May 27, 2010


I'm back on track and in control. The crunch on my manuscript sent me into a stress frenzy you cannot imagine. For three days I edited/rewrote & revised 600 + pages. 169000+ words. 34 chapters + a prologue and last night/this morning at 2am I sent off my submission. EXHALE.

Today has been a GOOD day. I reverted back to my initial gung ho weight loss behavior. 1300+ calorie intake and a 250+ cal workout where (get this) I jogged for 10 minutes straight. GASP

The girls and I took a 90 minute drive while they napped through the forestry and hills of our small town which is the setting of my book and how I get my ideas. I listened to the music that inspires me and just let my imagination soar as I drove. A phenomenally relaxing activity I plan to do more often.

Tomorrow is weigh in day. I won't lie. I expect a gain. A substantial one but the true success of this week was getting up off the floor, dusting myself off and jumping back on the wagon.

That's all for now. Happy almost Friday people.

The Fat Chick
-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


Sorry I have been gone. I'm still going to be until tomorrow. This is just a quick note to say my eating and exercise have been shit this week! Why you ask... One reason. I got a manuscript request from a new agent and I gave been overwhelmed with the preparation. Late late nights, not a lot of time to eat, fast food and sleep deprivation. I don't know what the scale says but I'm thinking it's not good. I'm trying to be good but I am so overwhelmed. Not an excuse or justification. I suppose it is a self allowance of sorts. I hope to have sent my manuscript by Friday at the latest. Wish me luck!

The Fat Chick

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, May 23, 2010


Okay, this time last week I was explaining to you all about my epiphany about eating a little too much here and a little too much there and then on Sunday (or was it Monday?) I allowed myself a controlled binge to purge the need for crap.

Here I am. Again. It's Sunday. And you know what I did this weekend? The same thing as last. Only worse.

I feel like a complete hypocrite.

I am not sure why I feel the need to sabotage myself and it's not like I go into a food coma and wake up with salt and chocolate all over my face and wonder where it came from.

No, I am perfectly aware of my consumption and while I am consuming/binging/gorging/medicating/comforting or whatever you want to call it, I don't give a flying butt hair that I'm doing it.

Murphy has been kind and has kept me in the 270's even through this rough patch. I don't believe I deserve such kindness though.


Monday through Thursday is usually pretty good for me and I justify this with the numbers on the scale Friday morning. I figure, hey as long as I lose, right? Yeah, well this behavior can only last so long before Murphy is going to rebel and start showing shitty numbers instead of good ones.

I'm feeling out of whack, out of my groove, out of it.

I need to refocus. But how?

I hate this crappy rainy/cloudy weather. It is my excuse not to do C25K.

*Light bulb?*

When I got sick and hurt my knee I stopped doing C25K and when I stopped doing that I started eating shit. Coincidence? Hmmm... at least it's something to think about.


I am sorry I have been less than a good/proactive and progressive participant in this journey that we are all on. Regardless of the fact that it affects me, I know how much I hurt for those when they fall off the wagon and I don't want to be anyones downfall or justification for a downfall. I hope that doesn't sound arrogant. It isn't intended that way.

For now, I am off to sleep. I have to meet with the EX tomorrow so he can see the girls. ((STRESSS!!!)) But I'll be good. Remember, Monday through Thursday are good for me. ((sigh)) It's Friday, Saturday and Sunday that fuck me up.


Goodnight Lovies

The Fat Chick

Saturday, May 22, 2010


Okay so first off I must say, Becca, that you truly ruined my dream of flying. How do you feel about yourself now?? I really thought it would be totally kickass to build my own super advanced and technological rocket boots and repeatedly slam my body against walls behind me. I was really looking forward to the thrill and the emarrassment and the bruises, oh and of course being extinguished by my smart fire extinguisher afterward, even though I would never actually be on fire. Come on! Tell me that wouldn't frickin ROCK!!

Tell me you read the sarcasm.

I have had a self discovery this morning. And no it wasn't as I catapulted myself at walls. I realized that I have a BIG problem with cleaning my plate. I'm seriously OCD about it. What I can't figure out is why. Why when I am comfortably full and still have half a plate of food left do I feel the uncontrollable NEEED to finish it? Even if I'm beyond stuffed and have a half a plate left I still HAVE to finish it. Why the compulsion? I logically know that nothing horrible or traumatic will happen if I don't finish it. I logically know that this isn't my last meal or even the last time I'll have this particular meal (whatever it may be), and yet I just can't stop myself. Just short of throwing the food on my plate in the garbage disposal the minute I'm satisfied, I don't know what to do and am consuming far more calories than necessary at any given meal forcing me to forgo healthy snacks to stay in my calorie range.

BTW thanks for all the awesome comments on my 20 week post. Off to get ready for my day.

The Fat Chick
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, May 21, 2010


Tonight I watched Iron Man (the first one) so that tomorrow my family and I can go see #2.

I have decided that when I am skinny I want to perfect this skill (Sorry it's in Italian but I couldn't find a good image in English):

In any case, my sister has informed me that when I am skinny I will no longer be allowed to drink coffee and that they will have to put padding on the walls. Something tells me they think I'll be some kind of uncontrollable ball of energy.

By the way, I totally want to go where ever this place is. Trampolines on the walls?!?!? OH HELL YEAH!!

I have a confession today: I ate poorly. I allowed myself to get caught up in stuff. Husband stuff. Children stuff. Family stuff. And I just threw everything to the wind. I'm ashamed. I just did a controlled binge to CONTROL THIS. But what is done is done. I'm not going to beat myself up. I'm going to take it as a learning experience and do better tomorrow. The 260's are close. So close I can taste em. 1 or 2 more weeks and I could see 269 on that scale and I'm NOT going to let one BAD DAY render me defenseless and ruin everything I have strived for for 20 WEEKS!

NSV - Apparently (even though few have said it to my face) my family keeps getting comments like, 'Has she lost a ton of weight or what?' and 'What is she doing?' People have said they were jealous and asked what prompted me to lose the weight. One person even asked me on the side if I was banded. I was like, Um, no. That may be the right route for some to success but that scares me to death. When I said this, they seemed more shocked than if I had said I was INDEED BANDED. Hmmm, that's a whole other can of worms blog topic. I'll save it for another post.

And now I shall sleep. Today was a long (somewhat stressful day) and I need my beauty skinny sleep. LOL (Because enough sleep is essential for weight loss right?)

Until I write again my blog loves,

The Fat Chick (Soon to be The Skinny Chick or some such variation - Thanks Eve)


I lost 2lbs.
Total pounds lost - 51lbs
!!! O . M . G !!!
The 260's are within my reach.
!!! O . M . G !!!
I have never done ANYTHING for this long in my life.
C25k resumes . . . as soon as the rain stops
!!! O. M . G !!!
The Fat Chick

Thursday, May 20, 2010


Tomorrow marks the 20 week point. I have been doing this healthy living 'thing' for 20 weeks. WHAT?!?! WHERE DID THE TIME GO?!?

Tomorrow (hopefully) will also mark the arrival of my 2nd mini goal which is to reach 275lbs and 50lbs total lost. I am actually hoping to surpass that but Murphy hasn't looked too promising the last few days.

I don't have much to say these days, hence the long span between posts and the off topic ones in between. This seems to happen when I get focused on my novels. All my energy goes into one or the other. My blog or my books. Right now, it's my books but don't be fooled. I am still on track, on plan and am losing weight. I will post my weigh in results tomorrow.

Night Blog World.

The Fat Chick


I received a couple comments and several e-mails asking me what kind of books I write.

The simple answer is Mature Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy.

Here is one of the rejected query letters I have sent to agents regarding my current project. Tell me, would you read it?

The son of a human and a succubus. An immortal. The product of a demon's plan gone awry. He is a subspecies of vampire called The Enedev. He is driven to heal the ill and save the dying, defying instinct and denying primal hunger while looking for the one who will complete him. When he finds her he realizes she is not like him, her people not like his, and yet he is drawn to her. Drawn to her even though she is evil. The problem is that there are two of her. She has an identical twin who is human. A human who can do things no other human has ever been able to do. She can see things no human has ever been able to see. Caught in a tri-species web of love, hate and jealousy all governed by an outsider's subliminal persuasion, The Enedev must choose between the twins. He must protect his family's anonymity and above all save the people who seem to be dying in irrational patterns at his every turn.

In reality, the book is written in first person by the main protagonist who is the HUMAN TWIN but I didn't want to write the REAL QUERY here because it contains too much info that is too easy to steal. (If I sound paranoid, well, I am) The Antogonist is the EVIL TWIN. The story in its entirety contains one large plot containing 2 different protagonist/antogonists and several mini-plots within. As you can imagine there are several characters due to the plot layout including mostly made-up but some truly mythological creatures.

The book is called Shield of Persuasion. It is the first in a trilogy and CANNOT stand alone. The other two books are a necessity to finish the story. If I don't receive a decent agent offer soon I may be looking into self publication. We'll see how that goes.

The Fat Chick

Monday, May 17, 2010


I'm feeling sentimental.

I have been listening to Josh Groban in Spanish because, well, it moves me and I have been needing to be moved.

I have a new writing project. A friend contacted me and wants me to write a biographical sequence of accounts regarding all of the many men she has been with. I accepted. I have been blocked on my current novel for some time and the lack of response from my agent is not exactly motivating me to proceed with the project, so I am going to take a break from it and write my friend's story. Should be interesting.

Nothing new on the weight loss front. Ate well today. Around 1700 calories. Exercise was mainly carrying my babies everywhere. No C25K (crap!!) because my planned jog was canceled due to rain and I didn't have any alternative backup. UGH!

The Fat Chick

Sunday, May 16, 2010


My last RIDICULOUS binge was at the very end of April. So, I'm going on a little over 2 weeks. My last PLANNED/CONTROLLED binge was a little less than a month ago.

Now, I don't PLAN PLAN my PLANNED binges. I can just tell when one is needed. Friday was the purse party. I ate okay. Not too too much, but not spot on either. I felt a little tiny bit out of control. Saturday was okay. I still ate more than I should have but I didn't binge. This is what I call the equation for failure. Allow yourself to slowly migrate back into your old ways, thinking 'I'm not binging, so I'm okay.' NEGATIVE! HOUSTON HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROB-LEM!! In the event of finding myself slowly sliding back into my nonchalant bad eating habits, I know it is time for a PLANNED binge.

Why? You ask.

Well, for 2 reasons.
#1 and LEAST importantly, I can eat anything I want and not feel guilty, knowing that I am still ON PLAN and IN CONTROL.

But mainly for reason #2. I don't hold back in my PLANNED binges. I go all out. Anything is game. ANY-THING! The point, for me, is to make myself sick. To remind myself why I am turning my life around. To remind myself how it feels to feel FAT and FULL and LAZY and SLOVENLY and SICK all the time. I think it is healthy to remind ourselves once in a while how horrible it was to feel the way we once felt, to put extra motivation in continuing forward and creating progress.

So, today I had a PLANNED binge day. AND LET ME TELL YOU. My kidneys hurt from the lack of water. My stomach is bloated and sticking out in all sorts of directions that it hasn't in a while. I am fatigued and crampy and I just want to sleep. But I had a new symptom of over-eating today. Now, I don't know if I am alone in this or not but let me say first, I am NOT a drinker. So when I happen to have a glass of wine, or any kind of alcohol, I tend to sweat. Why? Well, because not only does alcohol dehydrate you, it is a stimulant which raises your body temperature which in turn can cause you to sweat in an effort to cool yourself. Today, I sweat as I ate. Now, aside from dehydration I noticed that as I ate I could actually feel myself getting warmer. How odd. Then I noticed the content of what I was eating. SUGAR! Another stimulant. My body has never reacted that way to sugar before and I think it was because it was so accustomed to taking it in, that it didn't recognize it as a stimulant. TODAY THOUGH; different story. And this is what the purpose of my PLANNED binges are. Redo. Remember. Respond differently. I redid my previously poor actions. I remembered their consequences and I CHOOSE to respond differently than I did all those other times that I FAILED.


Today is over now, though. I'm not (that) sick anymore. I still have a cough but it's just remnants of what I had. My knee is still only at about 80% but I can walk well and I think jogging is even a possibility again now. So, tomorrow starts anew. Eating on track, C25K, and whatever else the good Lord has in store for me.

Remember, Tuesday is the last day for the Stretching Photo challenge. All participants must have submitted their photos to by 8PM PST!

And now, I will sleep.

Goodnight friends.

The Fat Chick

Saturday, May 15, 2010


This may sound forward but I dedicate this to anyone and everyone struggling right now. Struggling in any way. I'm not sorry it's called THE PRAYER. You don't have to accept it as given to you if you don't like it or want it. I personally am struggling right now. Emotionally. Internal struggles. Not all related to weight loss. And this beautiful song broke me. It made me cry. It made me feel and it made me pray. If you don't pray, perhaps just the beautiful vocals will help calm whatever stresses you. Goodnight blog world. I have nothing else to give.

The Fat Chick

Friday, May 14, 2010


Anyone who has been severely overweight has experienced what I am about to describe. You go to a social event and one of the first thoughts in your mind upon walking in (or even as early as accepting the invitation to the event) is, ‘I hope I’m not the fattest one here.’ As you enter the room/place you survey the area quietly, careful not to draw any attention to yourself while you scan the other bodies. Thin, thin, thin, chubby but not even close to my size, thin, too skinny, thin etc. You then realize that one of your fears as been dumped at your feet and is staring you straight in the face. YOU ARE THE FATTEST ONE THERE.

Tonight I attended a Miche purse party. I have a complex about ALWAYS BEING THE FATTEST PERSON at any given event. I was under no misconception that even though I am only 1lb away from losing 50lbs that once again I would be THE FATTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM. So, I walk from my house to my aunt’s house (roughly a 5 minute walk), my aunt helps me get Buzzy out of the stroller and then Breezely and as I walk in my gramma (who has been setting up for the party all afternoon) immediately introduces me to the purse lady. We’ll call her Pam. I murmur my salutation and take Breezely who is starting to whine at my aunt, and this is when I get a peripheral view of our hostess. My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. ‘Put them back in, you idiot!’ I chastise myself. ‘That is exactly the reaction you do not want people to have to you.’ And as you can guess, Pam was quite the large lady. I would estimate her height at maybe 5’10” and her weight well over 325lbs. Perhaps significantly so. I was shocked and I must admit, horribly relieved. For ONCE I was not the fattest person.

As the party moved on I noticed Pam watching me. She watched how I moved and watched how I dealt with my babies. Now only a ‘fellow fatty’ would understand this ‘viewing process’. You see, I do the same thing when there is another ‘overweight’ person in the room but who is still smaller than me. You assess them. How and where are they smaller? Do THEY fit in the chairs? Do THEY look as uncomfortable as YOU feel? Are they looking around the room the way you are? And of course, the doozy, Is there anything about me that looks better than them? This is what Pam appeared to be doing. I found it oddly comforting to recognize it. Then later when the party was nearly to a close, my gramma started handing out cake. I decided to have a piece but I noticed that Pam initially started to raise her hand to say that she indeed wanted a piece. She stopped, quickly glanced at me and waited to see if I would have one. I accepted one from my gramma and she quickly did the same. It sort of felt like a game of copy cat only this time I GOT TO BE THE CAT!

When the party was done, I got to talking to Pam. We talked about food, WW, diets, The Biggest Loser etc. Apparently a few years ago she had done WW, lost 130lbs and had gained it right back because the point system never allowed her to truly see what she was eating (or so she explains it – I wouldn’t know. I have never done WW on the point system) She had also tried out for The Biggest Loser at the Portland casting call, received a follow up but never heard from anyone after that. She was however contacted by the creators of The Biggest Loser for another at home series that may air sometimes next fall. She is crossing her fingers that she gets on it. I am too. She needs to the lose the weight, as it is mainly in her midsection. I somehow was able to gracefully talk about my recent 50lbs loss but the gleam of sadness and jealousy was very evident in her eyes. If I had never experienced that same sadness, that same jealousy, that same ‘IF SHE CAN, WHY CAN’T I?’ feeling, I never would have recognized it but it was there. There in the quick blink of her eyes and the small purse of her lips and the way she immediately looked down as I said it. I felt awful but felt that perhaps it would be motivating to know she isn’t the only one going through such a tough time.

On another note, at this same party were three 8 year olds (my cousin and her two friends) and one of her friends who we’ll call Shannon broke my heart. The girl reminded me so much of myself when I was her age. She wasn’t skin and bones like my cousin and her other friend but she wasn’t fat. solid. Thick perhaps, but nowhere near chubby, let alone fat. To start with at the beginning of the party Shannon loaded her plate with food and her mother scoffed. ‘Are you really going to eat all of that?’ ‘Yeah, I’m hungry and L (L is my cousin) wants to have a picnic. ‘oooh.’ Says her mother with a raised eyebrow and I could feel Shannon pull into herself defensively as she walked away with her food. (Mind you we didn’t have junk. We had fresh fruit, pita with hummus, tapenade with pita chips, crackers with ham and cheese and veggies and dip. No chips, no chocolate, no cookies and really no junky junk. I couldn’t understand why her mom was so upset with her daughter’s full plate. Then, as the party was coming to a close I noticed something. Shannon kept pulling her retainer out and stuffing something in her mouth. Once it was a strawberry. Then a piece of pita. Then a pita chip. Then a piece of pineapple. When her mother noticed she immediately said, ‘Shannon, no more food. Put your retainer back in and let’s go.’ Then her mother would proceed to continue talking and they would not leave and so Shannon would gravitate back toward the food. She would peak around the wall into the hallway to see if her mom was paying attention and then pop another piece of food. She did this several times and it BROKE MY HEART. It was me. 17 years ago. Popping food into my mouth quickly so no one would see and then racing to see who was paying attention. No one really ever was except when they would say for the twelfth time, ‘Come on Kris, let’s go!’ and then they would continue to socialize. I pray that for this little girl, small habits such as this does not turn into the eternal weight battle that it has for me.

Which brings me to my self discovery. I have been trying to work out in my head why I used to eat so much. Why I binged. Why I turned and sometimes unfortunately, still turn to food. I hear so many self discoveries. Numbing the pain of abuse. Feeling the need to be in control of SOMETHING. And several other reasons such as this. But I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME place my finger on just one reason. So I’m going to go through it here. Maybe my readers can pick up on something I am either just not seeing or subconsciously keeping from myself.

1. Since I can remember, I have had a big appetite. I don’t remember often being told I had to stay at the table to finish my food before I could get down.

2. My first memory of BINGE EATING is when I was very little (7 or 8) and my mom and step-dad would argue. The louder they got the more popsicles/candy/cookies but mainly popsicles I would eat. I once ate almost 2 boxes of popsicles during one of their fights.

3. I used to sneak food. I would sneak down to the pantry when someone was in the shower or otherwise indisposed and eat as many of something (cookies/chips/candy) as I could and as soon as I knew they were coming I’d close the bag/box/container and act as though I hadn’t been doing anything.

4. I remember from very very early in my life, I was always told I was big. ‘Big for my age’, ‘Big bones’, ‘Big girl’, ‘She’s gonna be a tall one’ or ‘She’s only *insert age here*??’

5. Apparently when I was a baby the doctors wrongly informed my mom that I would grow to be about 6 feet tall. Yeah, hi, just barely 5’4” here guys. What the hell do you know? But my family apparently took it to heart because I remember my whole life being told I was going to grow to be 6 feet tall.

6. When I lived alone for a year I could go all day without eating and then at night binge on an entire carton of Ben & Jerry’s coffee heath bar crunch ice cream.

7. I feel more connected to people when we eat together. For example: Today my mom was eating lunch. I had already had lunch had hadn’t intended on eating anything else until the party tonight. But I felt like I needed to eat with her (not for her, but for me) so I had a snack.

8. I find I eat when I don’t feel wanted or I specifically feel rejected. For example: If someone in my family is going to the movies (and obviously with Buzzy and Breezely, I can’t go) I immediately feel the need to eat. Anything similar, I feel like I must eat.

9. As a child I remember begging my mom or gramma to let me wear x-set of clothing ONE MORE TIME even though they were too small for me. They always eventually let me and I always regretted it.

10. As a child I also remember people poking/pinching and handling my lower belly saying how cute it was. I have always always always hated me lower belly.

11. When I grew up my great grandma always made me junky foods when I stayed at her house. Eggo waffles for breakfast, snacks of my choosing, top ramen for lunch and corned beef hash with eggs and toast for dinner and always always always some kind of ice cream or popcicle for dessert.

12. I remember my mom obsessing over her image. She was beautiful and sexy and she knew it. I remember my grandma always obsessing over her weight. She used to walk 7-13 miles with me in my stroller every day until I went to school and I remember my grandpa’s protein shakes. He always let me have some in my own cup. They were sooooo good.

13. I remember in school always trying to ‘trade-out’ something in my lunch for something better (ie: chips/cookies/candy) and when I got into high school it turned into just asking for things in people’s lunches. No trading anymore.

I think I’m sorta getting off topic now. You’re thinking, no really?!?! LOL Well in any case, I am still desperately trying to find out my motivation for making food my #1 friend for so long. Any ideas (barring expensive psycho-therapy) on how to achieve that are welcome! Until tomorrow my blog girlies.

The Fat Chick


Highest weight ever: 372
Starting weight: 325
Last weeks weight: 280
This weeks weight: 276
Total weight loss since 01/01/10: 49lbs
Total total weight loss: 96lbs

Holy HELL!! I'm doing this!!
Sorry bout the blurry sideways pic but I had to document 1lb away from 50lbs lost! WOOHOO!!

The Fat Chick

-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, May 13, 2010

I totally (mentally) bitch Murphy out and he turns around and makes me smile. I have succeeded in weighing in I. The 270s for 3 days in a row. Once 278, once 277, and today 279 (but last night was dinner with the grandfolks- chicken marinated in veggie with rice and black beans) so I'm going to pray it was just water weight. I suppose we'll see for sure tomorrow at weigh in.

Today I am glad to report my knee is at 75%. I still can't kneel on it, which is hard because that's he knee I usually support myself on when I am getting up from sitting on the floor. I do this often and have had to make last second faster than lightening
maneuvers to avoid kneeling on the swollen bruises several times.

As for being sick, unfortunately I'm worse. My congestion has traveled from my face(behind eyes and nose) to my chest. Deep in my chest which makes for deep painful barky coughing! Not cool! If it doesn't clear up soon I'll be goin to the doc to make sure I don't have walking pneumonia.

In other news I am feeling really on my game in the eating department. I found I have been over estimating foods that doesn't have listen nutritional information and so I can actually eat a bit more every day. In fact I think that eating too little may be what is causing my weight to be stagnant.


How to lose fat but not muscle. Obviously strength training is part of it but is there anything in particular I should or shouldn't be eating in order to maintain and build muscle??

Tomorrow night I'm going to a Miche purse party. They have really cute stuff and I am hoping to have my first real purse since 2 years ago.

And speaking of 2 years ago! My baby is going to be 2 in 25 days! Yikes! Time seriously flies!

Ok, done boring you all now. Gonna go suck on a throat lossenge (sp?) and meditate on Murphy and the number I want so badly to see tomorrow. FYI that's 276.

PS: how much does the regrowth that is sticking up where my bangs ought to be ROCK?!?! I lost so much hair after both babies but it always grew back making me look like a wanna be 80s flashback reject. Ugh! Lol

Until later bloggie loves!
The Fat Chick

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


I'm tired.

My knee is KILLING me.

My nose still feels like a steamroller is trying to push its way out through the bridge.

Now, when I exhale too far my breath croaks out like a frog. NEAT!

Murphy's Law is seriously playing games with me today.

MASSIVE MIGRAINE + kids won't stop screaming + Buzzy keeps dropping heavy items on my toes + Breezely decides it'd be a good idea to bite my fingers with her insanely razor sharp teefers. Yeah, Mama's tired. Sick and tired.

((((deep sigh ... croak))))

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Eating was good today though. No exercise due to my deformed injured knee.


The Fat Chick


Yesterday after my wonderful day at Starbucks I promptly tripped over one of the outdoor umbrella bases and banged up my knee REALLY bad. I'm pissed. Now I can't jog. Hell, I can barely walk. This sucks and on top of it all I'm so sick now I think I have a sinus infection induced ear infection. My throat is on fire and I can't taste my food. Jeez! Sometimes lifes a royal biatch!

The Fat Chick

-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Tuesday, May 11, 2010


I got an e-mail asking me when I feel most motivated. Now, I suppose this question could be interpreted several ways but this is how I am going to answer it.


1. When I make good food choices
Like today. I am here at Starbucks. For those who don't go to Starbucks or who go but don't pay attention to calories/points, Starbucks drinks and food are L-OAD-ED! A Venti (the largest size) coffee frappuccino with whip cream is a whopping 450+ calories. A Pumpkin scone ((mmm)) is 480 calories. The egg salad sandwich on wheat bread is 460 calories. WOW! So for breakfast and lunch had I eaten what I USED to eat I would have already eaten 1390 calories which would leave me with a whopping 110 calories left for dinner.

Instead though, I had a venti cafe mocha (350 cals) and a classic egg and cheese breakfast sandwich (290 cals) and for lunch I had the 460 cal egg salad sandwich which brings my total to 1100 calories and I still have 400 calories left for dinner and snack if I so choose.


2. Making good exercise choices
I will admit, there are days when I JUST DON'T WANT TO EXERCISE. No matter how much I try to convince myself I JUST DON'T WANT TO. It is on these days when I push myself past the idea that 'I DON'T WANT TO' and think to myself, 'JUST DO IT' (This is not ad for Nike...LOL) It is when I JUST DO IT, whether I want to or not that I feel motivated and when I finish, sweating and tired and thirsty I feel good.


3. Seeing pictures of myself 4 months ago compared to pictures of today.
4 months ago I was a stagnant, not participating human being on this planet. I weighed 325 (possibly more) and I spent my days as a spectator on the couch. I was the person behind the camera, never the person in the photos. Today I am 50lbs lighter. Almost 100lbs lighter than my all time heaviest of 372lbs. Today I don't spend my days on the couch, although sometimes I'd like to. Today I walk at least 2 miles every day. Today I jog for a minimum of 9 minutes every day. Today I play with my girls and carry them everywhere instead of using their walkers/high chairs and other aids to cart them around. Today I like what I see in photos and I know that image will only get better with time. Seeing the difference between now and then is awesome.


Here is a photo of myself this morning in my size 20 jeans. 20. 20. 20. I haven't worn size 20 jeans comfortably since I was in my late teens. Oh and this morning I weighed 279. 1 of the 2lbs gained has been lost. THIS IS A PLUS not only because the scale is moving in the right direction but because I am now back in the 270's where I ought to be and working my way down to the 260's. So, can you see the definition in my stomach behind the fat. I never knew I could still be fat and have abdominal definition. ANOTHER PLUS.
Please excuse the torpedo boobs. This is the only portion of the picture I am a little embarrassed by. I have yet to buy new bras even though I am in desperate need. I think I need a 36 D now instead of the 38 DD that I am wearing.

The Fat Chick


I am spending today alone. A.L.O.NE. All you mother's out there, especially those mother's of two or more kiddos know that this is monumental. A truly unique occasion. Every once in a while it's nice to get away from EVERYTHING (ie: the needs of others) to just focus on me for a moment. It makes me a better mommy, I think (and hope that isn't just a justification) Granted, I don't leave everything because that would include my computer and seriously, it's my 5th appendage. Spending a whole day without my computer would be like . . . well it would be bad. But my mom, for mother's day, offered to take my little ragamuffins and let me be alone for the majority of today. So where do I go? I go here. Errr, I mean here.

And what do I do? I drink mochas, write here, write in my book, people watch, doze, daydream, and become re-energized.

This morning I woke up with a head cold to rival . . . well, I don't have anything to compare it to. I have never had a head cold this bad. Headaches/serious sinus pressure (like a steam roller trying to push its way out the bridge of my nose)/sore throat so bad I choke on my own breath/cough - remember, choking on my own breath? /burning-watery eyes. The whole shabang. Not cool. But I am alone. A.L.O.N.E. and that is all that matters right now. I will enjoy my peace and quiet in this caffeinated, jazzy music filled atmosphere and I will enjoy it despite the fact that I feel so diseased. I mean sick.

As for last night and this morning, thank you to the few people who posted comments re-affirming my feelings about my anonymous commenter. I really feel such a connection with so many of you, inspired and motivated by soo very many of you. In particular I have to give a serious shout out to Chris, because you are one of my number ONE motivators. I look forward to your comments on my posts and wait eagerly for you to post on your blog. I don't know if you know it or not but you are such an inspiration and not only in the weight loss category of life. In so many others as well. You make me strive to be a better me. And Flabby McGee because I feel like there is a really cool connection there. Since I first read your blog I have felt like we had a lot in common and if we lived closer could be really great friends. Oh and regarding your comment about stalking my blog, don't worry. I stalk yours too. Haha! There are so many more people who really inspire me, whose blogs I love to death but I would take up several hundred lines writing them all out. So, thank you all who comment and who read and who support so very much from the bottom of my heart.


Do you remember these photos?

Okay, so a while ago I had posted a challenge to 'copy' these photos and whoever 'copied' me best would win the challenge. Because somehow the concept was misinterpreted (I didn't use the right words) no one took on the challenge. So here is the challenge again. All words modified so you understand exactly what the challenge is.


1. Challenge starts today. 05/11/2010 or 11/05/2010 if you write it that way. APRIL MAY (I was called out again for my fail in knowing the months) 11th for clarification purposes. LOL
2. The idea of this challenge is NOT to do EXACTLY what I did. It is to mimic/mock my photos and make me laugh. Whoever copies my photos and makes me laugh hardest with their 'spin' on the photos will win the Stretching Challenge. THERE IS NO NEED TO BE A CONTORTIONIST. Just have fun!
3. Challenge ends 05/18/2010 aka MAY18th 2010
4. Photos for participating challengers must be submitted to by 8PM PST (Pacific Standard Time) with your name and URL of your blog included in the e-mail. (Photos will be posted to my blog - please do not participate if this makes you uncomfortable)
5. Winner will receive an Honorary Ugly Cupcake Award (They're really cute and 100% unique as they are creative art by my very talented sister) and a $25 gift card to the place of your choice (as long as I have one in my area)

Now, I am off to read YOUR blogs. I have 6 hours here at Starbucks though, so I may be back to write again. Hopefully you don't get too sick of me. LOL

The Fat Chick

Monday, May 10, 2010


Today as I was deciding what I wanted to blog about, I noticed a previous post had a new comment on it. Now, this was my 'Mother's Day' post and granted, I did put a small rant about my ex in there. None-the-less, my eyebrow was raised when I ready this:

Anonymous said...
Seriously? Those are lamest excuses ever. Sure, he can have a relationship with your children, but you aren't required to. Why on earth would you even go to breakfast with him? You have no room to complain, you are egging him on.
May 10, 2010 4:59 AM

Now, this is not the most horrible comment I have ever received. It actually pales in comparison to some things people have spouted off, BUT I felt the need to respond to it. Why? Call me a glutton for having the last word. Call it clarification. Call it what you will.

So, Mr. or Mrs. Anonymous Commenter,

I have a couple questions for you. Of course, they're all rhetorical considering you won't be able to answer them. That is unless you choose to reveal your identity because I have conveniently turned off the anonymous commenter. (Sorry, to everyone else. This is just how it has to be)
My first question is, what's in it for you to read my blog, get offended or appalled or disgusted or sick to your stomach or whatever it was and then to comment that way? Did you just need to get it off your chest? Because, really that's what blogging is for. And here on my blog I am happy that you could get that off your chest. Or perhaps you just 'don't like me' and what I stand for, or how I deal with my husband who isn't emotionally my husband anymore but is still legally my husband. Maybe that just rubs you the wrong way, and that's okay. Or maybe you have some underlying issues and you are projecting how you subconsciously wish you could handle them by telling me how I should handle mine. ((shrugs)) In any case, do you feel better?

My second question is, why did you feel the need at nearly 5AM in the morning to comment 'anonymously'? Could you not sleep? Were you getting ready for your day? Were my actions just grating so hard on your nerves? I mean seriously? What mature adult sits at their computer at the wee hours of the morning and anonymously (out of cowardice, I imagine) comments like that on someone's post? Perhaps you need to find a hobby.

And lastly, to answer your question. If you don't remember what that was, here is a reminder: "Why on earth would you even go to breakfast with him?" Well, because there are these two words called decency and civility. I am sure that now-a-days those two words are prohibited from mingling with other words such as separation, divorce, custody and visitation. Oh no. But guess what? They exist in my life. I go to breakfast with him so my girls get both their parents at the same time. So they don't feel tugged in one direction and then another. I go to breakfast because he asks me to. And if you think that is 'egging him on', well then so be it. It's difficult to egg someone on when you have said to their face and to the faces of their family members that nothing more exists between the two of you. That hardly leaves room for misconceptions. And if you might by any chance be talking about the kiss that I gave him upon my daughter's request when you say I am egging him on, then please oh mighty counselor what would you have done? When your one year old (almost 2) asks you to kiss daddy goodbye (and she WON'T understand if you refuse) would you refuse anyway? Why would you choose to confuse your child that way? It wasn't like we sat there and made out. It was a puckered lipped peck on the mouth. I kiss my friends that way. So, what's your problem?

K, so I had intended not to get defensive. I am tired and irritable though so that didn't completely pan out. For anyone who might be thinking that I am a fool for explaining myself to some random passerby on my blog, I may be a fool, but I am a control freak to. I want the last word. I want to be understood and if not understood than at least heard. So, like I said, I have turned off the anonymous comment option on my blog. Whatever you have to say to me, you should be able to see it without hiding behind 'Anonymous'. Anyone that needs to hide doesn't deserve to give their opinion anyway.

Onto my victory. I didn't want to do my c25k today. After all I took Saturday and Sunday off and getting back in the swing of things is never ever fun. But I did it! I pushed through the burn. I pushed through the 'I want to quit' mantra in my head and I finished it. And I did it in my size 20 jeans! Hell yeah!

On one last note, I have a horribly sore throat. I think I may be getting sick. I hope not. I don't need anymore road blocks in addition to my own emotional issues.

The Fat Chick

Sunday, May 9, 2010


You have been warned.

I got this in my e-mail and thought it rocked.

You may not and that's ok.

Born 1776, Died 2008

It does not hurt to read this several times.

And because I am going to write more of my novel now, and am feeling particularly sassy, I shall say nothing more.

The Fat Chick

Saturday, May 8, 2010


Tomorrow is mother’s day and I have a bunch of thoughts rolling around inside this head of mine regarding this day. On one hand it is a celebration of me. Wow! This is only my second mother’s day. My third if you could when I was pregnant with Buzzy, but it still astounds me that it is no longer just a celebration of other women. I am now included.

My entire life I dreamt about becoming a mommy. It was ALL I wanted. I couldn’t get enough of holding babies. I watched pregnant women and felt jealousy and excitement looking at their round bumps and imagining the beautiful life growing inside and hoping desperately that one day I would be able to experience that. I have now experienced it, x3 (counting my angel baby) and it was worth it. It was everything I dreamed. Motherhood is such a blessing. A beautiful blessing.
But the day also makes me sad. Sad for those without moms, sad for moms who have lost their babies/children, sad for children who are not wanted by their moms and sad for moms who are shunned by their children.

I think of my mom. She is thee best mom in the whole word. Cliché. I know. Everyone (almost) says that their mom is the best. Well, let me rephrase my statement. My mom is thee best mom in the whole world that God could have given me. She is my best friend and had it been anyone else, I would not be who I am. You see, for those who don’t know the story, my mom got pregnant with me when she was 15 by her boyfriend who was 18. He offered her money to abort me. She took the money. She was 15 and scared. Luckily she is the daughter of a man who had been through a similar situation. My grandfather, in his teens, gave his girlfriend money for an abortion and she aborted their child. He regretted it heavily and to this day believes that that child was a boy and that the abortion was the reason God did not give him sons. (He only had my mom and my aunt) Anyway, my grandpa wasn’t going to have my mom abort me too. My great grandparents threatened to disown my mom. Claimed she would dishonor the family by having me. My grandparents offered to adopt me but by this time my mom was pretty far along in pregnancy and decided she wanted to keep me (with my grandparents’ help of course) So, on October 13th 1984 I was born. And along with me was born a mother. This beautiful, conceited, arrogant teen softened and decided to take the responsibility of being my mommy. And she was/is the best mommy. She didn’t have to be, but she was and is.

I think of my grandparents’ who don’t have their moms anymore. My grandma’s mom died when she was 16 and my grandpa’s mom died a little over 15 years ago when I was 10. I cannot imagine what it would be like to not have your mommy. I know one day that will happen to me and honestly the idea is absolutely terrifying.

I think of my stepdad whose mom died after a really bad fight between him and her. He stormed out and when he returned he found her dead in the garden. He never had a chance to apologize. He never got to tell her he loved her again. I cannot imagine the pain of this.

I think of mommies who have lost their babies. It is a blessing and a curse that the title remains once the tragedy has passed. Tragedy, whether it be an early miscarriage, a stillborn, an illness early in life, a car accident, or a child killed by some crazy in the middle east because s/he is doing what they think is right. Being patriotic. Mom. Ma. Mommy. Mama. Words they don’t/won’t hear but a title they will always bear none-the-less.

I think of mommies who reject their children for whatever reason. This saddens and angers me. How could you not love unconditionally that which was produced by your own body. That which grew within you for 9 months. That which you labored (in one way or another) to birth into this world. Only to shun/disown/forget that it exists. I can’t fathom it. Truly.

Tomorrow I don’t get to spend the day with my mom. She works. This makes me sad. I love her so.

I didn’t do well eating today. And by not eating well, I mean I mini binged on everything. I ate 2 days worth of calories. Nice. I am feeling super emotional and I don’t know why. I sort of planned to not eat well today though. I knew my step dad would be arriving and that would be stressful and then I plan not to eat very well tomorrow either because well, I’m being treated and I don’t know exactly what’s on the menu. But come Monday it’s back on track.

Ok, wait. I lied. I do know why I am feeling emotional.

Like, I said mothers day is here and I can’t spend it with my mom.

But the real reason is that my Ex is back. No, not just back from Mexico. He has reeled me back
in. I can’t completely eliminate him from my life because he has a right to see his girls. So, if I act mean and catty to him he becomes defensive and threatens me with taking custody of the girls. If I am nice and civil and happy he takes that as an open invitation that I’m ready to restart our relationship, even if I tell him that I’m not.

The other day we went to breakfast. Afterward as we’re leaving he kisses Buzzy goodbye. Buzzy then says, “Daddy kiss Breezy” so he goes and kisses Breezely. Buzzy then says, “Daddy kiss mama.” What an innocent soul she is. But she doesn’t know how detrimental this one act will be. I kiss him because she’s watching and I don’t want her to be sad. But because I do this he thinks that I’m back on the wagon of the relationship. I’m not. I want nothing to do with him. He doesn’t get it.

I feel degraded when I’m with him. He is constantly slapping my ass in public. I HATE IT and when I tell him to stop he just laughs and tells me to calm down. I want to friggin punch him, but I don’t and if I do smack his hand away he takes it as a challenge. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. He bites my hands if I hold his because Buzzy asks me to and thinks its funny when I yank my hand away. He makes snide remarks in the form of innuendos that send my blood pressure sky rocketing, such as: I’ll ask him what he wants to do after we eat breakfast and he’ll say (in Spanish) “what you want I want and how you’re comfortable I can do it.” It doesn’t make much sense in English but it’s basically an analogy for sex and he uses it all the time for EVERYTHING.

I’m so sick of it.





On a happy note, I fit in size 20 jeans. They’re snug but not so snug I can’t wear them. The only problem is I have a bit of a muffin top in them so I have to wear looser shirts. No biggy. Soon I will fit in them like I slide into the 22s right now. The day is coming soon.

Well, my bloggies, that is all for now.


Remember, we have only so much time on this earth. Make it count.

If you are estranged from your mother, call her.

If you are estranged from your children, call them.

If you have lost your children, visit them wherever you have laid them to rest or just go talk to them in a quiet place.

If you have lost your mom, visit her wherever she may lie in rest or just talk to her. I really
believe God let’s them hear us.

If you love your mom hug her. Hold her tight. Kiss her cheek, her forehead. Tell her how much she means to you. Forget the past. It can’t be changed. Don’t look into the future. We don’t know if it will come. Take a hold of the present and make it beautiful and full of happiness.

Much love.

The Fat Chick (Mommy)

Friday, May 7, 2010


It's hard to blog when your eyes keep slamming shut.

AND I've already blogged today.

Not once, but TWICE.

So, what has possessed me to blog AGAIN?


I cut it off tonight.

It was long, down to below the middle of my back and shaggy and had split ends up to the roots. I needed a change. Unfortunately, I don't have a before photo. But here is what it looks like now. NO MORE BUSH WOMAN!!

I wonder how much poundage was cut off? I have REALLY REALLY LIKE OVERLY THICK HAIR. LOL

I did my c25k tonight. It's getting a lot easier and I'm loving it. I was told by a friend that running can become addictive. I didn't believe her until now. I sooo look forward to my evening runs now. Even if the running does only happen for 9 minutes out of 21. LOL I think if I wasn't doing the c25k with a couple other people who need to keep it at this first level for a while longer, I would easily be able to jump into the next level. I've tried. I can jog for a few minutes at a time without having any issues and if I really really pushed myself (as in, wanting to kill myself) I could probably jog the full 30 minutes now. But I will take it slow and trust the process.

Speaking of TRUSTING THE PROCESS does anyone else watch Ruby? How about Biggest Loser? Kirstie Alley? Or Jessica Simpson's 'Price of Beauty'? I must confess I LOVE LOVE LOVE all these shows. In addition to my Survivor, White Collar and Parenthood addiction.

Oh! My gramma is bringing me home a pair of size 20 jeans tomorrow! Yay! I think they'll be a bit snug but these size 22's were falling off of me on my jog tonight.

And speaking of that, I wanted to bring to light something regarding a comment on one of my posts.

I was being facetious when I said that 'muscle weighs more than fat'. I assumed it was implied when I added yada yada yada. I am perfectly aware that a pound of muscle weighs EXACTLY the same as a pound of fat. What I wasn't being facetious about however, is that I AM doing the c25k. I AM building muscle. So, if I weighed 278 last week and theoretically had a huge calorie deficit (because of my low calorie intake + c25k workouts+ being an pro-active mommy and carrying around 2 20+lb children every day all day) then I SHOULD have lost weight. The factors attributing to my gain were listen in my last post. 1. water weight. 2. muscle gain. or 3. crappy quality of food. So, even if I were to have lost 0lbs of fat, I may have gained 2lbs of muscle HENCE THE WEIGHT GAIN. That is what I was talking about when I mentioned #2. Then again maybe I gained 1lbs of muscle and had retained 1lb of water. WHATEVER. Just so we're all clear here on the fact that I DO know what I'm talking about.

((can anyone tell I'm a little irritable? I've had my period off and on for 5 weeks now. It will come. Leave after a week. Be gone for 2-3 days and return. It teases me. Last time it left for 12 hours. I was so thankful for it to be finally gone and then it returned with a vengeance. Now, here I am and it is dissipating again but I'm no fool. I don't expect it to be gone. I'm just waiting for my stupid hormones to regulate from that frickin depo shot I made the mistake of taking after Breezely was born))

And with that I am out.


So, for mothers day my gramma surprised me with a new pair of jeans and some new tshirts for exercising. She bought me a size 22 pant and after today's weigh in I was super skeptical. I mean I only weighed 5lbs more when I finally dropped into a size 24. I wasn't feeling them. But I though, what the hay and tried them on anyway. Were they tight. That's not the word. No really. They slid on so smoothly I think I could potentially fit in a size 20 of the same brand. Holy hell! Size 22? Potentially size 20?!?! It was only 4 months ago I was pouring my flabby jiggliness into a size 32 STRETCH!!

So poll time. Regardless of maintaining or fluctuating a few lbs up or down, do you really think it's plausible to lose inches without losing on the scale. Somehow my mind just doesn't accept this concept openly. Tell me your ideas on this. Please!

The Fat Chick

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone


I gained 2 lbs this week.
Boo Murphy! Boo!!
I can only attribute this to three possible things.
1. The cliche'd water weight
2. The cliche'd increase of muscle mass. You know, muscle weighs more than fat, yada yada...
3. Even though I ate under my calories, perhaps my food choices were not the best. Ie: 4 piece nugget n small fry or a portion of mission chips with onion/dill dip instead of veggies n dip.


The Fat Chick

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wednesday, May 5, 2010


1. I want to apologize to Physicallee Fit for upsetting her with my less than gentle post last night. I swear, my intentions were not to hurt you or make you feel belittled. My sincerest intentions were to encourage you to take the bull scale by the horns battery? and live life now. We can't relive the past and we don't necessarily know that tomorrow will come so why not live in the present? Enjoy the things YOU WANT to enjoy and don't worry about other people and their opinions. If they are really so concerned about your weight while they are dancing it is probably because they can't figure out how someone overweight can have such sweet moves. And DON'T WORRY about looking like a dork. In those classes there are always the show-offs. (ahem) and there are always the awkward people and those awkward people who stare at the floor, get sweaty palms when they have to dance with someone they don't know and who look like a side heavy washing machine when trying to move their hips ALWAYS outweigh the show-offs. AL-WAYS!! So, please forgive me for my black and white words last night and know that I have nothing but the best wishes for your weight loss journey and your dreams of dancing!!

2. I finished day 4 of C25K. (would have been day 5 but I took yesterday off to take Buzzy to her Tuesday gymnastics) I'm really starting to enjoy jogging. I bought a tandem jogger today for the girls so we ALL can jog more comfortably. They seem to like it. I LOVE IT. Day 5 tomorrow. Here I come!


. . . and those are the three things I intended to say. I have said them. Now I am done.



Tuesday, May 4, 2010


Physicallee Fit of Physicallee Fit made THIS POST tonight. Now for those of you too lazy to click on the links the title of the post is, Would You Prefer the Sexy Salsa, the Romantic Rumba, or the Sassy Samba? First off, I think she has to two mixed up. I think it should be . . . the sassy salsa, romantic rumba or SEXY SAMBA!! To answer her question simply, I would have to say SEXY (okay okay) Sassy Samba. I mean seriously. There is nothing sexier err… sassier than a woman who can move her hips like this:

Then again, when you have legs miles long like Stacy Keibler you pretty much look good doing anything. Off topic, though. ((even though I would love to have legs like hers – but sadly never will)) So, she said something on her blog that kinda hit me weird. She said, and I quote:

“ . . . but I would feel more comfortable dancing in front of people if I were under 200 lbs. And when I am thin, I will dance.”

This is very sad to me. I have taken salsa, samba, cha cha, and merengue (all latin ballroom classes) and I took them all at over 250lbs. You know how I felt in a class of beautiful, thin women and their less than coordinated male partners (I took the classes alone). I FELT SEXY. I FELT RAW. I FELT POWERFUL AND I FELT BEAUTIFUL!! This is where I pat myself on the back and let you all know that I have mad rhythmic skills. I can shake my ass booty like nobody’s business and because of my flexibility (that you all have witnessed in photos), I am able to do some advanced moves as well. Now, of course my butt jiggled more than the blonde Barbie next to me, but my hips moved in fluid motion while her slender more attractive buns looked like a broken and lopsided record on a record player. Yes, my legs were thicker but they moved in time to the music and my feet didn’t step on my partners toes. All that to say, that none of the men wanted to dance with me. But not because of my weight. No, No! I was told on several occasions by different men that they were intimidated by dancing with me because I didn’t look like I was a beginner. AND ALL OF THAT TO SAY, you don’t have to be a specific weight to dance. Besides doing something that is totally good for you, seriously awesome exercise, insanely social and insanely fun, YOU MIGHT JUST SCARE YOURSELF AND FIND OUT THAT YOU FEEL BEAUTIFUL NOW. Why wait until you are under 200 to dance? Why wait until you are THIN to LIVE? There’s no good excuse.

Nelley at Happiness is a Size 6 wrote THIS POST. Again, if you’re too lazy the post is called, How random messages from an ass can help to motivate ‘your’ ass. At the bottom of her post she asked this question:

“Any random ex lover stories out there?”

I literally had to push the mental stop button on the flood of memories that bombarded my brain by this simple question.

So, to indulge my random post, I thought I would post a few. Mind you, these are journal entries from eons ago.

5/19/07 (6:28PM)

Today has not been a good day. In fact this day has been so horrible I can only think to title it; TEARS. I woke up this morning to my husband vehement whisper… “Baby! Wake up!” Completely desperate and impatient. “We need to go eat breakfast so the day doesn’t escape us! Get up already!” I slowly got up, still half asleep and my heart hurting as though he had said something horrible to me. I got dressed and got ready for what is our normal, romantic Saturday breakfast.

I asked my husband, “did you tell Juan we’re going?” Insinuating that he has told his nephew that he and I were going, not implying had he asked him to go as well. He said yes, but to my dismay he had invited his nephew to our breakfast. It hurt a little, but it was ok. I understood because his nephew hasn’t been here that long and why would we leave him home alone when we didn’t have anything for him to eat. So we ate. We then went to the bank where I was reprimanded by my husband for slamming the door. He told me that if I didn’t treat our new Mustang well he was going to take it away from me and I could use the old one. This stung a little too, but I knew even though his words cut a little, he was right and I should treat the car well.

Then we came home and watched our recorded soap opera. Everything was fine until our neighbors started making tons and tons of noise. My husband opened the front door as the woman upstairs was running up and down the stairs. I yelled as loud as my voice would allow, “Could you be any less considerate?!” and then all hell broke loose. The woman’s husband who had been waiting in the car flew out of the car like a bat out of hell and was in mine and my husband’s face saying nasty things in his Chinese accent we could barely understand. There was one point I thought he and Myturo were going to get violent and even one point where I thought the frickin Chinese ass was gonna hit me! The yelling and obscenities got so ridiculous that I went to call 911 and the woman had to try and restrain her husband all the while his face is red and he and my husband are shouting at each other in their distinct accents. I couldn’t understand either of them. Then out of nowhere the man says he is going to the office to speak with the manager and so he flung around and flew down to the office where Myturo and I found them after locking up our house and walking down there. By this time my adrenaline was racing, my blood was soaring through my veins and my mind was going a million miles a minute running through potential scenarios of was about to happen. We walked into that office with a purpose and the Chinese woman started yelling at us immediately. The manager didn’t even have a chance to take a breath let alone speak. The woman spoke of us making her nervous by hitting the walls when she is making too much noise and adamantly denied that she or her husband or her 15 year old son (of whom Myturo and I have never even heard or seen) make the noises we accuse them of making at all unGodly hours of the night and day. I was indignant as I had recorded many loud episodes (only later to find out that they were accidentally erased) But none-the-less we held our ground. Again the woman had to restrain her husband a few times and at one point ended up shoving him out of the office to cool down. The manager was about to call the police because the man and woman were getting into it, violently and that was when I broke down in tears and told the manager that that was what I had heard only accompanied by blood curdling screams and torturous wailing. In the end it seemed the office managers understood Myturo and me. We were asked to try and void each other (our neighbors and us) as much as possible and if they continued annoying us to call security. All in all this took quite a bit of time and set me completely on edge. I was exhausted and sad and nervous when we arrived back at the apartment.

We continued watching our soap operas. At one point Myturo got a few apricots from the fridge and started to eat them without pulling them in ½ first. I was joking with him and told him he was eating them wrong. He made a disgusted sound and told me he would eat them anyway he felt like it, thank you. Then after the soap opera was finished Myturo came into the bedroom to lie down. I changed into my comfortable clothes, took off my bra and laid down with him except he stayed on his side of the bed almost to the edge as if he didn’t want to be anywhere near me. I asked him why he was all the way over there and he said because he was resting then asked me why I laid down. I said because I wanted to rest with him and he turned over and flung is arm over me, noticed I wasn’t wearing a bra and asked why I had taken it off. I lied and said that it was cutting into my side and made me uncomfortable. I then jokingly said the truth and said I was “hoping to get some”. He made another disgusted utterance and waved me away muttering something about how I hadn’t wanted to the night before and now I do. That it’s only when I want. (Mind you when he got home the night before I was passed out and I don’t even remember him asking . . . If I had I would have surely hopped to it as I am ovulating and this is the best time to try to have a baby)

In any case he said, “I’m going to take a shower.” Hopped up, less than 5 minutes after he had laid down. I felt sad, helpless, useless and hurt. I didn’t know what was wrong and he hadn’t given me the opportunity to ask.

Then as soon as he got out of the shower his cell phone rang and it was his nephew in California (the one we are going to pick up on Memorial day weekend). He spent the next 35 minutes while getting ready for work talking to his nephew about how is nephew is going to transfer, how we are going to go pick him up etc etc. When he did finally get off the phone he came over to me, kissed my head, told me how beautiful I look with my hair that way and how beautiful I am anyway. He then had me walk out with him to our cars, where our new mustang was in our assigned parking spot and our white one in a guest spot. On the way out he told me he was stressed and felt pressured and that he didn’t know why. That our bills are killing him and that he is only working to pay them. (He wants to buy new wires, amplifiers etc in Mexico) Anyway, we swapped so he could have a space close to park in when he got home. He blew a kiss goodbye to me and told me he would call me on his way to work.

When he called me on my cell phone a few minutes later his personality had taken a 180 degree turn for the devil! All of a sudden he was telling me how he wants to go back to Mexico, and he isn’t going to take Saturdays off anymore because I am pressuring him to go by ourselves and then he is telling me that I need to tell him each and every bill I pay so he isn’t disillusioned by the fact we have so little in the bank when he thinks we have more. He again reprimands me for slamming the car door at the bank, reprimands me for pressuring him and stressing him out. Says that if he was in Mexico he could be living a relaxed and free life without so much pressure and so much stress and without anyone to tell him when or where or how or with who. I was flabbergasted. Completely shocked. What happened to my husband that had just walked out the door telling me how beautiful I was??? He told me I take advantage of him and his money. He told me I don’t appreciate him and for that reason we will have “our” time when we can and not any other days because he isn’t going to take any days off special for “us” anymore. He threw in my face a few things about my family, a few things about everything and I felt about as small as a mustard seed when he said, “well I’m here at work now and I haven’t been able to solve anything with you so I’m going to go work and I’m going to turn off my cell phone.” WHAT?!?!?!? He never turns off his cell phone! I asked him why he was doing this, why he was being so vengeful and then a thought occurred to me. And I asked him if he was expecting a call that he shouldn’t receive. That sent the lid off the boiling pot and asked me if I wanted him to go back to Mexico because if I did to continue with my stupid questions. This made me even more suspicious but I didn’t push it. He has never ever before given me reason to believe him unfaithful. So I asked again, What had I done to deserve this? And again he called me ungrateful, and that I don’t appreciate it or value him. He then said I hadn’t even said I was sorry. In my mind I am thinking FOR WHAT? But so as to make peace I say, I am sorry!!! I apologize! Then he throws in my face that a long time ago I had told him that if my words weren’t said on my own that I probably didn’t mean them and again he threw in my face that I am apologizing but I don’t mean it because I don’t value him or what he does for me. He called me a spoiled brat. That he spoils me and I just expect more. Told me to stop yelling at him when I was speaking in even tones (even though by now I am crying pretty hard) and said he was turning off his cell phone again. I asked him if he accepted my apology and he said, are you going to stop with all your immature little problems and complaints etc and I said yes and he said ok. He loved me and goodbye.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened. What did I do to deserve this? So now I am sitting here, no longer crying but still cold and shaken with sadness. Why does he get this way? I am going to call his cell phone and see if he really turned it off. He didn’t. Which makes me even more upset because whose call was he waiting for?? I don’t know. I am so sad. So upset.

I just want to go to sleep and not wake up.

Sorry this entry is so depressing. Hopefully I will be able to look back on it in a few weeks and go, oh how silly I was. But right now it is fresh and it hurts. Until later with more stuff to say . . . I leave you with my TEARS.

7/29/07 10:50AM

We got back from our 4 day journey to California and back yesterday. I will never make that drive again without spending the night somewhere in-between. The drive there was peaceful. I started out the trip on Friday, driving all the way to the border of California with no breaks. Then Myturo took over into the evening and we drove and drove and drove. By this time I was sooo tired so when I had to take over the wheel again around 3am I was ½ asleep and so not prepared to drive again. I almost fell asleep a million times. You know that feeling where your eyes are so heavy and they just close and you snap back into consciousness? Yep, that’s the feeling. That’s what happened. So not cool when one is driving.

So what my grandfather predicted would be a minimum of an 18 hour drive was only a 13 ½ hour drive. We arrived in California at my mom’s house at around 7am and slept on her couch until about 11am. We then all woke up and went around our own business. I went out with my mom and my sister and Myturo went over to Feliz’s (our other nephew) house to start packing and getting things ready for the trip back. So all in the all the trip there was decent. I spent most of it with my mom and sister. We went shopping, out to eat, shopping some more, to a movie (Pirates of the Caribbean and World End < ---- Definitely not as good as the other two) One of the days I was using my laptop, which I had lent to Juan, and found he had downloaded a million half naked pictures of models, and girls in general. ON MY LAPTOP!!! WTF?!?! He had changed my desktop to one of them so I deleted them all and changed my desktop back. (Did I give him permission to do that in the first place) and he completely changed the entire makeup of the computer so everything is in Spanish instead of English. UGH! Needless to say I am now holding my laptop hostage, or actually I am keeping it in protective custody. Then on Sunday night we packed up the car, got back on the road and spent the next 14 hours driving home. On the way home my husband decided to play cat and mouse on the freeway with a girl who Feliz thought was pretty. He wouldn’t let her pass, then he’d let her get ahead and cut her off and then fall behind and then not let her pass again. It was very immature, very frustrating and I just wanted to chew my fake acrylic nails off . . . Once we got home all hell broke loose, well at least inside me. I told Myturo we should unpack the trunk. He said, no I want to rest. Not 5 minutes later Juan says Tio (Uncle) we should unpack the trunk and he says, Okay. So we unpack everything (and Feliz brought his entire life with him) and did they put it away nicely???? NOOOOOO!!! They just put it down wherever they felt like it so now my house, which was clean, is now a friggin pig-sty. Then Myturo pulls me into the bedroom (where there is a bunch of stuff lying all over the bed) and decides it’s been a “long time” and so he wants to do “stuff”. Well I am tired, cranky and worst of all I have retained so much water that I have creases on my ankles when I bend them! I am so not in the mood but we have an agreement, never to deny each other so, whatever! So we’re in the process and the skin on my hips suddenly feels stretched to maximum capacity and suddenly I am in stabbing pain, but I endure the rest, we finish . . . he showers, invites me to take a shower with him. I am retaining water like a camel so I decline saying I need to take a cold shower so maybe the swelling will go down and his shower is burning hot. He gets a bit miffed at that but understands. So he finishes, I shower. I forget to take off my eye makeup it smears and runs all over my face, burns my eyes. I suddenly look like I have been in a fight with two thick black rings around my eyes and my actual eyes red, swollen and bloodshot. I loofa my feet because they are dry and cracking, I shave my legs, cut my legs, bleed all over the bathtub. I wash my hair, remember we don’t have any gel and that means I am either going to have to blow it dry (I think not!!!) or let it look like a rats nest. (Guess that’s my only option) I finish washing the rest of myself, get out of the shower, dry off, get dressed do my makeup, all the time I am assuming we are going to go eat. I finish, and hear that Myturo and our nephews are playing music (like literally playing / rehearsing / practicing / singing even) So I sit down at my computer hoping they will be done soon so we can eat. By this time my ankles feel so thick and uncomfortable that I decide I will take a before and after picture so everyone can see how horribly swollen they were. (Those pics will be posted later when the swelling actually goes down, hence the AFTER picture… LOL) So it takes about an hour for the guys to finish and then Myturo walks in the room and says are you ready yet? I’m like, yeah I have been ready and waiting for the past hour and he’s like, oh well we were waiting for you. UGH! Whatever. So we return our rental car, go pick up some Chinese food to eat and then get back home. Well immediately when we are done eating the guys say they are going to walk to Hollywood video and rent some video games. I say ok, I am not interested in going. They get back about an hour later and immediately get to playing the games. They do this for the next 3 hours and then Myturo comes into the bedroom and announces they are going to go workout at the gym. Feliz insists on pointing out to me that in 5 months Myturo will have an “incredible body”. I’m like, uh, I like him the way he is and don’t need more reasons to be jealous of NOTHING! Thanks Feliz! Thanks so much! By this time I am feeling neglected, ignored, lonely and sad. I knew this was going to happen! I just knew it! Myturo asked me if I wanted to go to the gym with them. I’m like ok, first of all I am in my pajamas, in bed half asleep. Second I am so not going to the gym with the three spaghetti noodles so I can look even fatter to everyone else. So they left and I fell asleep. Now usually when Myturo gets back from work at 2 – 3am I can always feel him get into bed. Well I have no idea when they got home because I never felt Myturo get in bed. He says it wasn’t long that they were there but I just don’t really believe him. Life was so much easier 6 months ago when Myturo and I were floundering and drowning in the sea of our debt. Then we invited our first nephew to come live with us. Everything basically stayed the same. Now that Feliz is here our lives are in shambles. He invades everything, monopolized everything, and takes over everything. I just wanna cry! By the way we are no longer moving. We are staying in the same apartment with the same horrible neighbors upstairs and you ask me why? BECAUSE! My nephews are noisier than our neighbors and I don’t want any NEW problems because of them. So, in the same apartment we stay. Myturo and I had words this morning. I told him I don’t like being neglected, ignored, and left alone all the time. We aren’t “normal” when it comes to couples and I never want to be “normal” where I go my way and he goes his and we meet in the middle when we happen to pass. I think this is what makes up for a good percentage of divorces here in the USA. Not enough quality time dedicated to the relationship. In any case we had words. He said I said some hurtful things. I told him he did as well. We went back and forth for a while about you do this and you do that and well you do this and I hate that . . . I’m gonna do this whether you want me to or not and if you do this, we’re gonna have serious problems. It was just this huge tug-of-war ending in a well I have to work now so I love you and goodbye, by him. (We ALWAYS no matter how mad at each other we are say “I Love You”) Well my eyes filled with tears and my heart was in my throat and I felt like just sinking into the floor. But about 10 minutes later when I thought the waterworks were gonna start for sure, he calls. I say “Good Morning US Funding Group” cuz that’s where I work and that’s where he was calling and he says in one huge breath, “you are the most wonderful beautiful girl, the treasure of my life and I am going to do everything in my power to make you happy”. I then DID start sobbing and he told me he loved me, that we would see each other later, that he sent millions of kisses my way and to try to relax and have a great rest of my day. Which brings me up to now. I am now done typing my update for this Memorial Day weekend. Check out my Memorial Day Weekend in California Page!


* My husband believes he can be cured of fear by bathing in roots and leaves

* My husband also believes that after bathing in these roots and leaves he can sweat out any bad that has posessed his body by keeping himself wrapped like a mummy from head to toe in sheets and blankets

* My husband also believes as a final act to this ritual that if when he is sleeping, someone sprays him with alcohol and calls his name loudly, he will 'return to himself' and be rejuvenated

* My husband believes you can get a sore throat from drinking cold water

* My husband believes if you come out of somewhere warm into somewhere cold you will automatically get sick

* My husband believes Tuesday is a bad day to do anything important

* My husband believes the breath (as in panting or meowing close to ones face) of a cat or dog can transfer amoebas and make a person severely ill

* My husband believes that tendons & muscles are actually nerves

* My husband believes if you boil tomatoes and shove them into your throat (blocking air passage) you can cure a sore throat

* My husband believes that by rubbing certain leaves over a person's face and chanting you can cure their headache

* My husband believes that all dogs are carriers of rabies and that if you are bitten by a dog (even a purely indoor dog) you need to have an injection in your belly button to prevent rabies

* My husband believes that if you do not eat three meals at the same time every day of your life you will never have a healthy digestive system

* My husband believes that honey and a shot of tequila will cure a congested chest (this is kinda sorta true)

* My husband believes that a heavy person can never be truly thin and vice versa

* My husband believes that if you don't signal and try and push the nose of your car into the next lane it is much easier and safer to change lanes on a busy highway than by simply turning on your blinker and waiting for someone to give you space

* My husband believes that my m/c was not chromosomal or genetically induced but was caused by something I did or ate **what do the doctors know anyway, right?**

* My husband believes it is his God given right to be 'retired' by age 40 because he has 'put in his years of hard labor'.

* My husband, even now at 34 years old, believes he will one day be famous . . . (I think it’s insane)

* My husband believes that on a night when there is an eclipse or a 'blood moon', a pregnant woman should never leave her house. If she MUST leave the house she is to carry a knife, scissors or metal object to protect her unborn fetus from the bad of the world, which could cause dismemberment or facial deformation upon birth

* My husband believes in Chupacabras that sit outside the window of a newborn infant's bedroom waiting until the right moment before sucking the life out of them (this is why some people do not take their newborns out of the house until at least a month after birth)

* My husband believes in "the eye" or "el ojo" which is when one person covets something and then that object (if living) will die. Example: In Mexico I fell in love with all the new puppies running around his property. They all ended up dying in the 6 months I was there and his sister told me it was because I coveted them and put my "eye" on them.


I wrote this a long time ago. I believe it was about ovulation kits. Now it applies well to the scale.

3/10/07 (10:11PM)

The irony of 8099 days on this planet, providing life, air, water, food . . . Spent in a vessel. It doesn’t belong to the owner but the creator. Is it wanted? No. Dreams of peace, war, lies, truth, hate, love . . . Swirling, falling, evaporating . . . Skin. Another vessel, belonging to me. Only me. Essence of what is mine and what I keep. Holding him close, breathing him into my very soul. Make us one. Tomorrow, comes every today and life, air, water, food . . . Here. Again. Tears, waters from the fountain that holds the pain. Tears of sadness . . . Grief . . . Loneliness . . . Whispers of maybe. A white stick of probing pixels calculate the beginning of each day . . . Rising, falling, as life curls its fingers and releases. A box, my breath. Inhale . . . What is to come and yet it is inevitable . . .

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