Tuesday, November 30, 2010


It's no secret how hard I have been struggling with this whole weight loss thing. Then again who can really call it a struggle when you're only fighting-caring 2/3 of the time?

All metaphors aside I am having a really hard time. 3 meals in a day and only during 2 am I able to successfully eat well. 'Well' meaning healthy and low cal. The 3rd meal of the day always goes to hell in a hand basket. It's not that I don't know what I should eat. Obviously I do because otherwise this would be a 'WHAT AM I DOING WRONG' post and it's not that I really don't want to eat well. Because I actually do. I miss the energy and the all over good and healthy feeling of eating well. I can do without the headaches and the 'irregularity' among all the other side effects of eating crap. It's just that in the moment when I have a choice (and I totally know choices should be eliminated but life circumstances doesn't always allow for that) I generally take the easier/yummier/more appealing one.

*** this is where I insert me pulling out my hair because my blogger app deleted half the post I had written. Grrrrr

But as I was saying, by dinner all my interest in the quality of my food intake has taken a hike. And I justify the stupidity by the stupidity committed from the day before and sugar coat it (sometimes quite literally) with a promise to fix it tomorrow. Then tomorrow becomes today and today becomes yesterday and it always turns into a friggin vicious cycle. I NEED to stop the cycle. God help me to stop the cycle.

Anyway, today has started out well. As usual. I am only on the first 2/3 of my day Breakfast was an onion bagel with 2 egg whites, a slice of cheese and chipotle chiles + coffee and cream for approximately 485 cals. Lunch was 2 tbsp hummus with 1 serving of pita chips and 2tbsp peanut butter with 3/4 honey crisp apple. 490 cals. That's 975 cals for today. That leaves me with 675 cals for dinner. And you know what? I'll do well for dinner. Not because 'I am putting my mind to it' or 'putting my foot down' or 'taking control'. No, none of those things dictate what I will do for dinner. You know why I will eat well tonight? Because tonight is Tuesday night and Tuesday (and sometimes Thursday nights) I always eat well. Why?

Tonight is zumba. I wish every day was a zumba day. The wii game just doesn't cut it. Not enough dance time between pushing the buttons trying to find a combo of the dances I like and the music I like and trying to keep up with the onscreen fluorescent colored instructors I can't decipher half the time. No, in a real zumba class the combination of the music, my instructor and dancing like my life depends on it with other women on a like path is just super motivating. Alas I only have babysitters on Tuesdays and sometimes Thursdays. And I trust gym daycares as much as the next convicted felon.

So the reason I love zumba day(s) is because the motivation guarantees my food success as I foreshadowed two paragraphs ago. I don't know why but it does. If only every day could be a zumba day, I know I'd be on track without any slips and I'd be well on my way to being the me who has been pushed to the rear of my mind for so long. So, I'm taking Tuesday for what it is. A day to eat well. A day to feel motivated and a day to go Zumba and feel like I am actually making myself healthy. Maybe one of these days, Tuesday's motivation will bleed into the rest of the week. I can hope (pray) right?

On another note: does anyone watch USAs In Plain Sight? I am sooooo hooked on this show!

XO Kristen

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, November 28, 2010


I am in such a horrible place right now. Mentally and emotionally. I don't even think its worth blogging about. I just want to go to sleep and wake up . . somewhere else. Maybe as someone else. Just for a day. I'm so tired. Of everything. I don't have it bad. I actually have it quite good. I don't know what is causing this feeling of ever impending doom. I'm pissed and sad and annoyed and frustrated.


But no. I can't. I've been waiting for two frickin' days. What's several more hours?

$^%@ !!!


Thursday, November 25, 2010


I love the holidays. Well, I should say I used to love the holidays. They used to be a time of gathering and togetherness, food and celebration. For the last 4 years (specifically since I got married) the holidays bread a new tradition. Fighting.

This year was no different. My husband declares he doesn't feel comfortable in my family's presence because I consult with my mom and grandma when we have marital issues. I understand that. *I think* In any case this is the series of messages that ensued this morning after a good starting - badly ending conversation.

* And just so it is clear, I have been BEGGING him to come to Thanksgiving for weeks. His answer? I'll think about it. Ironically though, a few weeks ago he mentioned going to Mexico for Buzzy's 3rd birthday and I had said I'll think about it and you'd think I'd told him I planned on shooting his mother! He always expects an affirmative when he wants me to do things but 'I'll think about it' is totally acceptable when the tables are turned.

So after our phone conversation he texts me:

HIM: I'm sad because I have always asked to be alone with you and my daughters to celebrate something or to do something and you never want to. You always want to be with your family and yet your sister IS going to be with her boyfriend.

ME: I'm so sorry that you're sad. I understand. I really do. I want you to come and enjoy the celebration with my family too but you don't want to. They want you there too. Buzzy and Breezy are very excited about going to play with their cousins. I wish you would come and see that.

HIM: I hope that when Buzzy's birthday comes you want to go to Mexico to celebrate it and so that they meet my parents and their other family because if you don't want to there's no reason to continue together.

ME: I love you. I wish you'd change your mind.

HIM: Change my mind about what?

ME: To come and be with me and the girls.

HIM: I told you that if you came here first maybe I'd feel like going but you never came, so no. Enjoy your day.

So, it's nearly 10:00 and he hasn't called or texted.

It is so strange how closely my relationship with my husband parallels my relationship with food. They are both bad. I need to fix them both. I fix them both for a short time and then something happens and all hell breaks loose. I can't change how I feel about my husband. I DO love him. But I'm starting to think that as Chris from A Deliberate Life said in THIS POST has a point. You can't let what you feel control your actions especially when you know that the action provoked my certain feelings is detrimental. I need to start feeling my feelings and not acting on them. I need to act appropriately and responsibly. With food. With the husband. My life cannot continue like this.

Like I said, big things are coming. Some are already here and I just haven't spoken of them recently. Please keep me and my girls (especially my girls) and my situation even though you don't know the details in your prayers.

And even though it's a little late:


Tuesday, November 23, 2010


Remember a while back I talked about the fat chick inside me? She being the enemy of my healthy chick alter ego? As you know, since January of 2010 I have been trying to eradicate her and until April/may of 2010 I succeeded for the most part. Then I got sick (just your average cold) and it changed everything. I don't know why but the fat chick came back as if the bacteria/germs had called her to feed them. Ever since then I have struggled (sometimes successfully and a lot of the time not) to keep her at bay. I have mostly maintained staying in the 270s.

All that to say that ms fat chick has taken full control of me and has beaten healthy chick into submission. I can hear the murmur (more like shouts of frustation?) from blogland saying well take some control and beat the fat chick back.

The thing is (if you remember from previous posts) when the fat chick takes over all concern for my physical being regarding food goes out the window. I still hear the weak voice of the healthy chick in the form of guilt about thinking about bad foods and thinking about eating bad foods but when the bad foods are there in front of me it's as though the fat chick sits her fat ass on the healthy chicks face literally suffocating her voice her breath and her concern.

The holidays have made the fat chicks voice particularly loud and particularly controling. I want food. Pumpkin this and that and eggnog this or that as well as all the goodies. It just sucks because my lack of concern pisses me off yet I can't find the will to care enough not to eat.

I've had 3 really bad days lately which is really crappy but the horrible thing is that I have this new super annoying but super tempting voice in my head saying, just wing it toll the new year. It'll be much easier that way.

I wanna cry for my self control that is in a (food) coma.

XO Kristen

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, November 21, 2010


In a strange attempt at psychoanalyzing myself I have been thinking about some of my most prominent childhood memories. I suppose it isn't strange that my childhood was a happy one for the most part or at least until I turned 6 and my mom got married.

I vaguely remember hiding from my aunt (who was in her teens) thinking she was mean cuz she was a lot stricter when she babysat than my mom or grandparents or great grandparents were.

I remember the purple and pink tent (or maybe it was blue?) that went over my four post bed that I slept in. I loved hiding in there. I felt secure.

I remember going to sleep at night and my mom and my step dad (when they were dating) sitting to the side of my bed. I always played with my mom's hair, rubbing the ends against my cheek and brushing my fingers through it. I couldn't sleep without doing that.To this day I still have a 'thing' for hair. I also remember the first time I told them they could leave. I don't remember being scared. Just confident. I was ready.

I remember sitting on my den couch closing my eyes and flipping through the channels on the TV as fast as my fingers could push the buttons and trying to guess which channel it would land on.

I remember the big Greek family get togethers. The smell of stale smoke and an alcohol that I am still not sure what it was or is. But if I were to smell it, I'd recognize it. I remember the cheek pinching and the loud voices. Thea Unthula (my great grandma's aunt - who was alive long enough for me to remember her scary face mole) scared the crap outta me. I always hid in my great grandparents bedroom when I knew she was coming. There was Bertha (originally named Parthanope) who was my great grandma's younger sister and she always wore ENORMOUS dark tinted glasses. Mary (or Maria) was my great grandma's older sister and I remember her flaming orange hair and loud rough voice. I miss those times.

I remember my Uncle Herc (who was actually the oldest of my great grandmother's 5 sisters and brothers and whose full name was Hercules) He smelled of tobacco and on holidays I would cuddle up next to him and pretend to sleep while he napped.

I remember during the holidays the Greeks would come up from the Valley (and anyone who lives in the Los Angeles area knows what the Valley is) and would stay the night at my grandparent's house (where I too lived at the time).

I loved to see my great grandma put curlers and bobby pins in her hair to make it curly for the next morning and the next morning how beautiful it always was when she took it out. It always bugged me that she combed out the curl to spray and set it. I also loved watching her 'put on her face' (aka put on her makeup)

I remember hating being away from my family. I hated Sunday school and I remember in kindergarten watching the carpet, stuck in the same place I was sat asking the teacher over and over again what time it was and that I missed my mommy.

I remember as a very young child (maybe 3-5) standing on a kitchen stool and 'helping' my grandpa make his protein shakes.
* Remember, when I was 5 my grandpa was only 40 so it was more like a father-daughter experience than a grandfather-granddaughter experience.
He would add in all the ingredients and let me press the buttons on the blender and then he would give me my own small glass and I remember it tasting sooooo good.

Speaking of my grandfather being more like my father, I remember our 'father-daughter' dates. He would buy me flowers. He would take me out to eat. Any place I wanted. We'd dress up and I'd feel like a princess. After we'd eat we would go shopping. Wherever I wanted. He's still like a daddy to me.

I remember my first encounter with my biological father. I was younger than 6 but not sure how old. He took me to Chuck-e-cheese. I don't remember much except being nervous about going with him (someone I didn't know) alone.

My first memory of my stepfather (as I have mentioned many times on my blog) is of him yelling at my mom from his open truck window through her truck's open passenger window, over me. I was 3ish in my car seat. I remember fear.

And this is where I break off on an irreversible tangent.

Several posts back Princess Dieter made a comment about thinking about why I am a masochist. For those not familiar with the word, a masochist is someone who derives pleasure from their own pain. At first the comment made me laugh. Absurd, right? Right? Well, no. She actually had/has a point. In many aspects of my life I am a masochist.

Weight, husband, fights between my mom and step dad - it is all painful and yet some part of me derives pleasure from it. Sick? Yep. Crazy? Probably. Yet it seems to be a common trend not only among the obese/overweight but especially among obese/overweight women.

Feeding my 'fat cancer' strangely gives me a masochistic pleasure. Having my husband hurt me and turn around and apologize only to lather, rinse and repeat gives me a kind of masochistic pleasure.

When I was between 6-12 my mom and step-dad fought A LOT and they didn't hide it. It was loud and it was mean and it was scary. Sometimes I would find myself in my room listening. Sometimes I would put myself in the middle of it . . . never interrupting. Just listening. I was never told to leave the room, nor did my presence change the heat of their arguments. I acquired a kind of adrenaline rush when they would fight. It was exciting. It was a thrill and it made me want to eat. Whether out of fear, some kind of masochistic pleasure/celebration or anxiety I ate. One fight in particular I ate an entire box of Popsicles. AN ENTIRE BOX.

My relationships with men (other than my grandfather) have not been healthy. My real father offered my mom money to abort me then left as a marine to Japan before I was born. I don't know the first time he saw or held me. You already know my first memory of him. Not the kind of first memory a little girl wants of her daddy. (A loud game place wreaking of greasy pizza, greasy children and dirty games/toys with an enormous rat wandering around - did I mention as a child I had an abnormal fear of Chuck-e-cheese?) My step-dad was around since I was 6 months old but I was just the baggage that came with my mom. He wanted her, regardless of the expense. My expense. I vaguely remember other men in my early childhood life - one particular Sunday school teacher who always let me cry in his arms when my family would leave me to go into the 'big church', a couple other of my mom's sporadic boyfriends, my biological father's step father - an Italian, devout Catholic and generally a good guy, my step dad's father - a man whose family was messed up hiding secrets and dishonor and so much dysfunction. There were two brother's at the church we attended. One was the pastor and one was a Sunday school teacher. I always thought they were the same person because they were soooo nice to me.

My first boyfriend was ridiculous and disgusting and stupid and then I was raped by a man old enough to be my grandfather. The year of my life I spent on liberal house arrest for that was an eye opener in and of itself.

And of course my husband. A user - abuser - macho - Mexican - but I love him. Only God knows why, but I do.

There are parts of my life that for no reason other than self-preservation I have blocked. There are areas of
complete blackout memories when I was 10-12. Much of my adolescence until about 16 is foggy at best. So from day to day, I try to work out my issues and their correlation to my eating habits. I try to control myself but try not to control everything. I have a very hard time with moderation with so many things. I am either completely in or completely out of control. And not just with eating. Life in general is either running so well as to be tedious and boring or feels so out of control I wonder how I will survive until the next morning.

Today I was put in a situation I did not appreciate. First, it is a known fact that my step-dad, like most men in my life is a user and an abuser. He will always take advantage of a situation to his benefit. When he moved here several months ago my mom warned him that HE WAS NOT TO ASK THE TWO OF US FOR MONEY... EVER. So, barring ALL the details of today's situation my step-dad rightfully went out with my debit card to buy something I had asked him to buy since he would be at the store and it is but-frickin-cold here in the Pacific Northwest. I didn't want to take Buzzy and Breezy out. So he went. He bought it. With my card. As I asked. Good boy. He then called me to tell me my mom (who works at that store) had asked him to buy something for her and that it had cost more than he had anticipated and now he didn't have enough money for dip (chewing tobacco) and asked if he could use $6 off my debit card. I said ok. Then my mom calls me asking for my step-dad and I say he isn't back yet. She says he left the store a long time ago and where could he be. I said he went to get his dip. Well, WWIII broke out because apparently he had told her he had sufficient dip to get him through the night and then went and asked me for money. So, there were lies from him to her and I was smack dab in the middle. Not cool. Not fair. Not nice.

And with that I will end this very long post. While your eyes are probably burning while I reminisced down memory lane it wasn't quite as cathartic as I had hoped. Maybe I'm not looking deep enough or maybe too deep... or not in the right place. Regardless . . . life moves forward.

XO Kristen

Thursday, November 18, 2010


So, let me tell you first I am not a fan of the store GAME STOP. The people that work there are rude and holier than thou and I really just don't appreciate their attitudes in general. Today they solidified my hatred. I prepaid for my Zumba Fitness **FOR WII** (Because for some unknown reason they always assume PS3?) about a week or so ago. I wanted it the moment it came out.

Today was the day. Today I would have my Zumba Fitness for Wii right here in my house. So first thing this morning I called GAME STOP where I had pre-ordered my game and I talked to a gentleman whose name I didn't ask. This was our basic conversation:

Him: Thank you for calling Game Stop **insert cheesey pitch about trading in old games for new games yada yada*

Me: Hi, I pre-ordered Zumba Fitness for Wii about a week ago and wanted to make sure you guys set aside my copy so I could come get it today.

Him: Oh sure. What's your name?

Me: Kristen

Him: Is that with a K or a C?

Me: K

Him: Allrighty, I'll go get your copy outta the back and it'll be at the front desk.

Me: Thanks. By the way how many copies did you guys receive in your shipment.

Him: Eight. Is there anything else?

Me: (slightly appalled at his abruptness) No.

On his end: CLICK

So I bundled up Breezy and Buzzy and took them out in this 40 - hovering around 39 degree weather to get my Zumba. After 20 mins in the car, Breezy falling asleep, having to wake her up and make a mad dash from the car into the mall in some kind of torrential downpour we finally arrived at Game Stop.

There were a few people I thought were in line but they weren't. They were actually having issues with products and/or waiting for the general manager to call back. Should have known right then and there that when more than 2 people are hanging out in the store with issues that it's time to turn around and walk out.

Buuutttt silly me, I say to the guy the same shpeal I told the guy on the phone and he whips out a Zumba Fitness for PS3. I say no, I ordered one for Wii. He says oh and starts scrambling around. I stood there for 15 minutes while 2 guys and one manager girl scurried from the back of the store to the front trying to find my copy. Then the girl told one of the guys to give me a refund while she called another store.

You see come to find out, the idiot who took my name (or did he?) didn't save my copy. They sold ALL 8 copies that they had received and the kicker??? The girl says to me after calling a store nearly 30 miles away that she could have another copy there within the week. UMM!! NOOO!! Number 1, you shouldn't have sold my pre-paid copy and number 2, within a week? I could drive the 30 miles to get it today!! So, I basically told her to give me my money and shove her game where the sun don't shine and that I would be buying my copy from another more reputable retailer. I swear I heard her whisper, 'Fat Bitch,' as I left with my girls in tow.

I did end up buying my copy from Best Buy who actually did save a copy for me (they only had 2) when I called and asked them to. Onto the review . . .

PRICE: The retail price was $39.99 plus tax where tax applies (cuz if I'd traveled the 30 miles into Oregon, they have no sales tax. LOL) I would say considering it comes with a belt for your Wii remote and other exercise games are in the $50 range than it is a pretty fair price.

VISUAL QUALITY: I was not too fond of the visual quality. While not grainy it isn't always clear what
 the instructor is doing although assuming you do the workouts on a regular basis, once you figure out the move it becomes second nature.

AUDIO QUALITY: When it comes to Zumba I like a huge variation in music, from traditional Latin music to reggaeton to hip hop and really anything with a good beat. This game focuses more on the traditional music and while I love it, I would have preferred a bit more up-to-date music. Maybe in advanced levels that I have yet to unlock.

EASE OF USE: The beginner dance moves are more like beginner dance moves for someone who has already experienced Zumba before. I think someone who has never experienced it before may feel a bit overwhelmed although there is a tutorial that will teach you individual steps. My biggest issue was that I like to do exactly what the instructor does and there are a lot of foot pivots which is extremely hard to do on carpet whether you are wearing shoes or barefoot. For anyone who has hard floor, this is the game for you.

PROS: Definitely follows traditional Zumba moves - music - and works you out like nobodies business if you allow yourself to work out like nobodies business. Easy setup. Easy to follow. You can set a manual schedule or have the game set an exercise schedule for you. You can choose the duration of your workouts.

CONS: I don't like the hip belt that holds the remote. It doesn't fit around my big ol hips and on my waist it slides around uncomfortably so I ended up holding the Wii remote which actually gave me a better score. It's difficult sometimes to see the moves the instructor is doing because of the fluorescent colors used. You can't get new dances until you unlock them and if you SUCK, God only know when that will be. Haha.

WOULD I SUGGEST IT: I would suggest it for someone who likes to compete against themselves and reach and unlock new levels. For anyone who just wants to follow an instructor like you do in Zumba class only in the comfort of your own home, I would probably be more likely to suggest the Zumba full collection from the Zumba website. It's only $20 - some odd dollars more and you get a lot more dance time.

Thas all for now folks!

Get your Zumba on!!

XO Kristen

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


Both my laptop and my netbook decided they wanted to crash so I pulled out my OOOLLLDDEERR than the hills laptop that is missing the A key and the Caps key (obviously they still work but it is super frustrating because I have to push the key super hard to get it to work which puts a cramp in my typing) Anyway, I'm finally back online. Whoop!!


Read This Blog's most recent posts and their comments.

I honestly cannot believe that some of these people are adults. Seriously?!?!

I've never heard more petty, whiny, needy complainers. And not even about legitimate life events. No, it's all about blogland and bloggers. GEEEZZUZZZZ PEOPLE!! If you don't get enough comments; write more interesting posts. If you don't like a "certain blogger" or what that "certain blogger" (Yeah, hi people there's no secret that it's Allan so stop being chicken shit and just say what you mean and mean what you say) has to say (like I am sure many will feel about this post) DON'T READ. If you have a problem with someone such as "Mr. Certain Blogger"; tell them. Perhaps ask that they stop talking about you. Hey, sounds kinda flippin' easy doesn't it? GOD!!! If you don't make an effort to fix something don't complain about it. Don't pussy foot and bullshit and gossip on other people's blogs and hide by anonymous titles. That's just ridiculous and immature. But hey - just my opinion.

Zumba Fitness for Wii comes out tomorrow. My copy is already prepaid. Whoop whoop!!

Oh and for the person who asked: No, I am not now nor would I ever consider weight loss surgery. I have nothing against it or the people who choose it, but that isn't for me.

XO Kristen

Saturday, November 13, 2010


I'll start off with the story.

Jess at Cankles and Carrots tried to slice her fingers off tonight and it reminded me of a very significant experience in my life and an even more horrific experience for my husband. By the way, Jess, I am sorry about your fingers. That did have to have hurt.

So, I was 16 years old and in a new relationship with the guy I had met at my first job. Every day that I worked I was giddy to get there so I could see him. He worked a couple (maybe a few) jobs at the time and he was notoriously late for this particular job because his shift at his other job ended at 5 and his shift at the work we shared started at 5. So, I wasn't surprised when he wasn't there when I arrived.

I worked with another clown who was constantly harassing me (in a stupid/funny way) about my relationship and why I would want someone so much older than me blah blah blah. Well, this particular night he came up to me and I was expecting the regular go around. Instead he says, "You know your boyfriend isn't coming to work tonight." I scoffed and was like, "Shut up, yeah right, go away." But he insisted, "No he really isn't coming tonight. He had an accident and he's in the hospital." I didn't believe him. He was always joking and lying and saying stupid stuff.

I kept watching the door to the restaurant open and close and open and close and every time I would involuntarily hold my breath, waiting for his tall thin frame to stride through the door. He never came. That was when my manager pulled me aside and told me that he had indeed been in an accident but no one knew exactly what had happened because no one was family and the hospital he was at wouldn't give out information.

Now, as I look back on that day I can remember nothing of what I did. I am sure I went to school. I am sure I went home for a short time and then I went to work. But nothing significant stands out except the utter helplessness of not knowing what had happened and knowing without a doubt that I would not be seeing him.

Now looking back I can only imagine the horrific day it was for him. While I - 16 and blissfully ignorant and completely oblivious - pranced around school, complained about teachers and went home to grumble about getting ready for work, my husband was having the most nightmarish day of his life.

Apparently his day started without work. A rare day off. But one of his jobs at a paper cutting factory allowed overtime hours and paid cash every day that an employee worked (sounds real reputable huh?) So, he had debated with himself whether he should work or not. He didn't have anything better to do but it was his day off and those were rare. He didn't have any cash on him and he said he had wanted to bring me roses that evening when he saw me at work so he decided to go into the paper cutting factory to get a little extra pocket cash. 

He went into work and began. He said he arranged the paper the way he was supposed to but situated his fingers differently because the particular paper he was cutting was thick. The blade was set to come down at a certain time but not before he hit a button saying that it was loaded properly.

No one told him that the machine he was working on was malfunctioning. No one told him not to use it. So when he set the paper and the blade came down he didn't really understand what had happened until he pulled his hands away and his index middle and ring finger of his right hand were just geysers of blood.

He described it to me as if someone were spraying the blood from within his hands and he could feel the spray with each pump of his heart. He went into shock. He had completely severed three of the fingers from his right hand and had 'scraped' quite a bit of finger off of his left index.

The clincher? His boss didn't call 911. His boss did not put his fingers in ice. His boss handed him a towel to soak up the blood and offered him $5000 not to sue him. The boss then loaded him into his car and drove him to the closest hospital hitting every red light.

The double clincher? The doctors told my husband that if they reattached his fingers he would probably have no use of them. He said he didn't care. He wanted his fingers. They said okay. 1 month later when he went to have the bandages removed for the first time, expecting to see his entire hand revealed beneath the gauze, he was horrified to see that not only had they not reattached his fingers but the surgeries they had performed on him while in the hospital had taken even more of the fingers(stumps) that were left.

And the icing on this fucktastic experience for him? His boss got a warning for not having workers comp insurance, a smack on the hand and go back about your business. While my husband is now forever without fingers. Did he get a settlement? Of course he did. Was it a well deserved 7 digit settlement. Nope. It was 6 digit settlement where 49% went to his rip-off attorney giving him a lump some of a 5 digit settlement. For losing three fingers.

I will never forget seeing him in the hospital in Los Angeles. He was so yellow and small in the hospital bed. Our mutual friend had taken me the 45 minute drive to see him and she walked into the room and told him she had a surprise for him. He said 'My Kristy?' (That was what he called me) and she said yes. I will never forget the transformation of utter despair to complete elation that I saw on his face when he saw me. I will never forget feeding him his broth because he couldn't barely move from the anesthetics they were pumping into him. I don't remember leaving him that night but I remember not wanting to. Not ever wanting to leave him.

To this day his fingers (what are left of them) still hurt in the cold. He works with his hands and he hits them, bumps them, scrapes them, cuts them and has even impaled his fingers on a couple occasions. His index is the smallest. Barely a bump of skin where his finger used to be. It was the one that had to be surgically amputated the most from the infections. His middle finger was cut just under the bottom knuckle and his ring fingers just above the bottom knuckle - all at an angle. His palm curves inward, a chronic mild cup because of how his tendons were stretched during surgeries. It still makes me very sad to look at it - not because it bothers me or because I don't like the way it looks but because it reminds me of the pain someone I love(d) so much went through. I can barely stand to think about it.  

Anyway, sorry for the downer story. On the bright side his lack of fingers hasn't impeded him in any way including work or anything else. In fact he is known as one of the best and the fastest at what he does. He has awards and plaques and has been employee of the month more often then I know because of his speed. His lack of fingers inhibits him not a bit.


As for dropping out. I'm dropping out of the challenges I've joined and the promises I've made. The goals and rewards I have set are going bye bye. I am revamping. Rejuvenating. Something is not working so something has to change. I'm gonna do a little soul searching. I know what I have to do physically, now I just need to get the rest of me in tune with that.

The definition of insanity per Albert Einstein is doing the same thing again and again while expecting different results.

So - new things are coming. Really - they are already in the works and I have been thinking about them long and hard. I am not ready to come out and say what they are yet. Still working out kinks and such but soon I will say.

I'm still gonna be blogging and chuggin along on this journey so please don't go anywhere. I'm in this for the long haul - no matter how long that haul might be and I hope you'll accompany me on my journey - even through the dark and scary and the bumpy ugly times. Thanks in advance.

Another Zumba video that inspires me - I wanna dance like (and look like?) the instructor.

XO Kristen


To post a headshot for son of DDD Challenge. Here's a headshot.

That's all.

XO Kristen

Friday, November 12, 2010


I came across Pam's blog, Plump Nonfiction (which by the way, I LOVE the title of) a little while ago and she is struggling with the need for support. While I can't help with the support of her family and her personal life I can help here in blogland and ask that my readers go to the link above and give her a little support. There is nothing like losing weight and feeling proud of yourself and the sadness of having no one to rejoice with. I think at least some of my readers can relate. Without the constant encouragement of blogland it is difficult to celebrate alone when family and friends just don't get it and especially when they just can't relate or understand the significance. So give Pam some love, some support. Follow her and let's encourage her to get this thang done.

I think anyone who has been blogging for any length of time with a public blog and especially under the topic of weight loss understands the necessity for community, support and having a common ground with fellow bloggers. I have never come upon a weight loss blogger who did not have some kind of back and forth communication with their blog's readers and who did not love the comments. Besides an ego boost to get comments on your writing it is sometimes so awe inspiring to think that when you always felt so alone that there are literally thousands of other people out there traveling the same rocky road of weight loss. It's amazing to read that someone not only agrees with you but is going through the EXACT SAME THING as you are and you are able to commiserate over it, and hash it out and perhaps find solutions to the struggles - TOGETHER. The weight loss blogger community is truly an amazing tool for anyone on a weight loss journey.

That being said, I cannot speak for everyone but I can definitely say that for myself, I KNOW the feeling of having no one to turn to regarding my personal struggles with weight. Of course I have a great surface support system of my family. My mom is overweight and struggles as well but she doesn't struggle with binging - just crap eating and mild overeating. My grandmother is a nutritionist of sorts and has been on and off every diet known to man. She has struggled with her weight her whole life - not because she was overweight her whole life but because my grandfather told her she was fat and needed to lose weight. Mind you she married him at 18 and 99lbsat 5'4". She was still a little too 'pudgy' for him then. So, her struggles and issues are not the same as mine. I don't turn to the men of the family because they can lose and gain weight the way the earn and spend money. So, I have always felt alone in my binging and being severely obese. Until, of course, I found this community.

When I first started blogging I did not blog about my weight. I blogged about my family and my issues with my husband, my want for a baby and then my subsequent pregnancies and births. I dwelled on my husband and our problems as well as trivial other topics of my life. But when I started my weight loss journey in January 2010 I decided to not only start a weight loss blog but to consolidate my old blog (Then called 'On The Border X 4') and my weight loss blog into one.

I remember I started getting more followers and I was pretty ecstatic. When I reached 20 followers I was astounded. 20 people followed me? 20 people cared about what I wrote? No way! But then I came upon Monica's blog called 'Confessions of a Plus Sized Girl'. Sadly, I am not sure if she blogs anymore because I can't find her blog but not only did she inspire me beyond belief she was the one who gave me some blog love and my readers started pouring in. There is no doubt that having people who follow you, care about you enough to comment on your posts and give advice, criticisms etc can help tremendously on this journey.

So for anyone new to blog land and the weight loss community who is unsure how to get readers and support here is my VERY short how to manual.
(It'll not only ensure people will stay interested but it is also a great outlet for stress, and keeps you from the hand-to-mouth habit - and please refrain from typing one handed so you can eat with the other hand - ok ok sorry it was a joke)
See - easy tutorial.

I am done writing tonight.

So tired. Gonna go read - maybe listen to some music. I'm in the mood to play SIMS. Odd. I haven't played that in years. Haha - kinda random.

Laterz bloggies

XO Kristen


Yesterday I pre-bought Zumba fitness for Wii. I am so excited. It comes out on the 18th and now I will be able to do it in the privacy of my own home and go all whacko crazy as well as do it a little less crazily in the public class with all the lovely ladies of my town.

So despite my lack of blogging and the loss of a couple blog readers I am pleased to say I have been receiving love elsewhere.

I was actually kind of shocked. At two different restaurants that I frequent, one supermarket I frequent and a few family members have commented on my 'sudden weigh loss'. I put 'sudden weight loss' in quotes because they have all seen me since I lost the first 50lbs a while back, but seem to suddenly think I look different. I will admit I do see a significant difference in the width of my ass, the indentations of my waist and how my love handles no longer extend forward onto my stomach. Instead they stay where they belong on my back.

I've also been experimenting with my self esteem. Generally, as a rule, when I am 'looked at' I always avert my eyes and I realized that while it may come off as a snub it is most likely my severe lack of self esteem that causes me to do this. So, I have been trying to smile in response to the looks and I have been pleasantly surprised by the returning smiles, waves, and winks. Not that I am looking for acceptance or confirmation that they were indeed looking but it's nice to know regardless. And of course, I MUST SAY, it's nice when another man tells you you look beautiful RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR cheating untrustworthy HUSBAND. I have to admit that that made my day. **Wicked grin**

And with that I will leave you with my favorite Zumba song. Ametralladora. Hell yeah, bring it ON!!

PS - If I can ever figure out how to use my video-cam properly I may tape some vlogs of myself doing Zumba. Interesting concept huh?

XO Kristen

Thursday, November 11, 2010
















Tuesday, November 9, 2010


Okay, so the eating for today is done. The water consumption is not. Although I seriously feel like instead of just mostly composed of water that now every corpuscle of my body is a slishy sloshy mess of liquid. I am beginning to loathe the indentations the toilet seat have made in my butt. **Nice image huh? LOL**

The eats after the last post?

Kellogs mixed berry crisps

5 mini peanut butter cups and 6 red M&Ms

Stouffer's rigatoni with roasted white chicken in a pesto basil sauce (It rocked!)


I have had 6.5 16.9oz bottles of water = approximately 109 floz and I plan on a couple more although I really do feel like I am swimming in my own skin.

Is there such a thing as a water induced headache? LOL

TY for all the comments, emails, formspring comments, texts etc as of late. You guys really have no idea how much your support spurs me forward.

It is now time for all shrinking fat women (or at least THIS shrinking fat woman) to go get dressed for Zumba.

My net intake for today will probably be around 400 calories after this fab workout if I burn like I usually do.

XO Kristen


Food today so far?

1 cinnamon raisin bagel

Less than 1oz sour cream and onion chips

1 stouffer's steak and cheddar sub

Water so far?

3 16.9oz bottles and nursing the 4th

**My family is starting to wonder what I am actually DOING in the bathroom. Haha

I was supposed to go grocery shopping today but that doesn't look so good because it is pouring outside. More in the mood to put in a good movie and pop some low cal popcorn and chill out in front of the TV - even though I can't even do that because none of the movies I am interested in seeing are 'child friendly'.

Just a boring kinda Tuesday.

A mid-day snack and dinner are on the horizon, to be followed by Zumba. Yay!!

XO Kristen

Monday, November 8, 2010


The scale damage was +9lbs. Yeah, well, that'll be gone real soon what with all this water.

Food today?

6 egg whites
Coffee w/ cream
1 banana
1/2 cup green grapes
1 square of ghiradelli chocolate
restaurant tortilla chips
refried beans
spanish rice
shrimp tacos with cajun slaw

Water intake? 

Not even close to goal but getting there.

I believe I am due 139ish ounces

I drank approximately 98.7 ounces and am currently nursing 99.7-115.6

Something that helps me to drink plain water - I chew gum while I drink really cold water. It not only gives the water flavor but the really cold temp of the water rejuvenates the flavor of the gum. Kinda interesting.

I definitely used the bathroom a lot today. Or I should say I NEEDED to use it a lot today. Facilities were only available several times and so instead of frequent trips I made less frequent LOOONG trips. I cannot say I have ever peed for 35 seconds straight. I mean seriously. Count 35 seconds and imagine peeing for that long. HOLY CRAP THAT WAS A LOT OF PEE.

And moving promptly onto PAIN. Oh the PAIN. I cannot even adequately describe it.

At the mall today there was a new kiosk dead center that said eyebrow beautification. Well, I have been in dire need of a wax for a little while now so I decided to see what this place was all about.

So, I walked up to the girl who I believe is of Indian descent and I CANNOT understand much of ANYTHING she is saying. I ask her what it entails and what it costs but all I get is that it costs $15 which sounds reasonable so I sit down in the chair.

I close my eyes and I feel her brushing against my eyebrows. Okay, I think she's brushing them to see the damage and to trim them (normal waxing protocol) but then I feel something slice into my skin.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? My eyes burst open at the hideous pain and I nearly bolt out of my chair.

'Threading your eyebrows' - How is it now I understand EVERY WORD she says.

T.H.R.E.A.D.I.N.G.M.Y.E.Y.E.B.R.O.W.S ??? WTF??? Where's the hot wax?

So, now a bit suspicious and super wary I keep my eyes open and as I watch these threads move over my face it feels as though small knives are hacking their way around my eyes. I wanted to scratch the lady's eyes out. Then she tells me I have to hold my own skin tight and I nearly lost it.

Another customer came by while I was having my 'eyebrows threaded' and asked me if I had had my eyebrows waxed before and to compare the pain. I said waxing was super tolerable and this was a ridiculous pain. She chose to do it anyway and from the grimace on her face when I was done I assumed she regretted it.

I WILL NEVER HAVE MY EYEBROWS THREADED AGAIN. Even though they look nice. They look just as nice when they're waxed.

Onto to day 2 tomorrow.

XO Kristen

Sunday, November 7, 2010


If you have been following my journey for any length of time, you know that I 'fall off the wagon' regularly and pick myself back up. I'm not proud of it, nor do I plan it and I try hard as hell not to accept it. But it does happen. I just have to deal with it and move on. Thank God, though, my chronic tendency to flee the stupid wagon does not send me on a ascending spiral back to where I came from (300lb range) I always seem to gain a couple pounds + water weight and then when I convince myself the stupidity must stop I always drop it easily.

Once again, I fell off the wagon. It started with my birthday mid-October and has culminated into an all-out free-for-all until now. Normally at this point I would be so enthusiastic and all gung-ho to start fresh and new tomorrow but something is different. I'm not enthusiastic. I'm not gung-ho and I'm guessing this could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.

It could be a bad thing because maybe I feel like I am just setting myself up to fail. Maybe I am disappointed in myself that I have allowed myself to get this far gone, to get to this point and not have achieved more. It could be a bad thing because I wonder if even after all my good intentions if my plan to start tomorrow will backfire and I will just continue along the path of abuse and food medication I have been on for a few weeks.

Then again, my lack of enthusiasm could be a good thing. Perhaps I realize now that this is not a game or a 'diet' or a temporary plan and therefore my lack of enthusiasm is not due to my lack of want but to my determination to do what is necessary and succeed.

Regardless, my intentions are to go back to my very first game plan at the very beginning of this journey. 1500 calories a day. Exercise and water.

I realized another big part of my success then and my consistent error now is that THEN, I was doing this for me. I was doing this to make me healthy so that I could be happy and live a good long life for my girls. I realized this morning that for the last several months I have been doing this for HIM, for THEM. (And no, by them I do not mean my daughters)

Now I am sure you know who HIM is but THEM? Can you guess? Well, in case you can't I have been trying like hell to lose weight for the girls who my husband works with. Whatever warped mentality that has been dragging me through the mud had convinced me that I needed to lose weight to be thinner, sexier, and BETTER than them. I now realize that regardless of my size nothing is going to change what has happened.

I would still feel inferior to them, disrespected by HIM and THEM and ultimately like the shit they treat me as.

I need to want to be healthy and thinner and sexier and BETTER for myself. No one else. No one else counts. (Except my girls but that goes without saying)

I am sure there are some interesting blog posts in my near future as I come out of my food coma. Headaches, acid reflux, and all the other ugly symptoms that come with withdrawal I am sure are on the horizon.

I am proud of one small accomplishment though. Today, while pondering what I wanted to eat for lunch and as we were driving to our local supermarket I thought to myself, 'What will you eat?' and I said to myself, 'Well, soup sounds good.' So my intention was to buy soup and crackers. And as we drove into the parking area of the supermarket I thought about Jack In the Box and their spicy tacos and yummy egg rolls. I weighed the idea of the soup, weighed the idea of the tacos and egg rolls and then an old, dirty, nasty little thought crept into my mind. "Why not have both?"

You see, during my pregnancies I could down a burger + 16 tacos (and if you have ever had a JITB taco you know that is a ton) + 3 egg rolls AND curly fries. Even after both pregnancies I could eat about 8 tacos and 3 egg rolls no problem and still have room for ice cream.

But today as that thought crept into my mind . . . "Why not have both?" I immediately rejected it. Visions and phantom sensations of my stomach writhing in pain, stomach acid and bile burning the back of my throat wanting to purge the grease and garbage I consumed flooded my mind. I was proud of myself for realizing the tragedy I would have committed had I chose to revert to my old ways before I actually did. So, I chose the soup over the tacos and while it was a LARGE bowl of creamy soup with waayyyyy too many crackers I am proud to say I did not succumb to my old self and it's gluttonous habits.

Tomorrow I am going to weigh myself and regardless of the horror I will post it on my side-bar and from here on out I am going to live my life for me. Regardless of what other people throw at me, how other people hurt me, and how I respond I know I do not have to respond with the 'food to hand - hand to mouth' reflex. This will be for me. I need to get healthy for me. I need to continue this mantra again and again so that instead of just being an aspiration it becomes an action and a habit. I'm tired of waiting to give myself the chance. I am soooo tired of holding myself back and I am tired of making excuses.

And of course, I can use all the support I can get.

XO Kristen


I think that daylight savings time is one of the stupidest ideas ever. Perhaps there are benefits that I am not aware of but as someone floundering on the cusp of depression, and as someone who finds great joy when bathed in light I find it very difficult not to succumb to the immediate onslaught of darkness.

Here, when you wake up at 7:45 which would have been 9:45 and it is only dawn it messes with your mind. It makes you want to go back to sleep. It makes me want to sleep the day away. Then as the day slowly moves forward the light rises into the sky (sometimes - because here in Washington it's more like the light rises into the sky behind the dense clouds which actually then makes no difference) and life moves on. Then as the day afternoon slowly comes to a close dusk settles over this part of the woods at 3:30PM!!


Not three months ago the sun rose at around 6am and at 3:00 in the afternoon it was a HOT time of day with the sun high in the sky and hopes of the weather only getting HOTTER until 5pm. Then the sun would not set until around 8pm if not later.

Now it rises at 8ish in the morning and sets at 3. Well, it will gradually set earlier until it sets at three. I am thinking it will set around 4:30 starting today.

So, let me think. 10 hours of daylight VS. 7. Hmmm, 3 hours may not sound like a big deal but it is. For me.


So, like I said I hate 'day light savings time'. I don't see the purpose or benefit. Then again I am feeling cornered and like I'm slowly drowning over here so forgive me for anyone who actually likes the whole shorter day season. I am sure if I wasn't in such a bad place, I may feel the same.

Day light savings time USED to be one of my favorite times. 1 more hour of sleep. Shorter days - because I was a seriously committed night owl and I also USED to love day light savings because at night jackets are more acceptable than during the hot days in California and I could wear a jacket to cover my body without getting too many looks.

Yesterday at the Christmas bazaar I was particularly saddened by the old fashioned Santa things I found. Statues, figurines, paintings, Christmas ornaments. All with the cherub faced Santa Clause of my childhood. I miss those things and those times. Simple times. When my biggest concern was whether I wanted to spend Friday night with my family or my friends. When I would spend hours listening to Christmas music with the family and pretend to be begrudging when they would force me to go see the neighborhoods decorated with Christmas lights. When we would bake Christmas cookies and decorate the house and the tree and wrap the front door . . . I always pretended to hate it but I really loved it . . . and I miss it.

My age is also a contributor to my depression and sadness. I know I am nowhere near old. 26 is NOT old but I feel like every year my life slowly slips away faster. The seasons are upon us before we know it and over before we know it and then summer rolls around and then the ever quicker reel of days passes once again. I feel like at this pace before I know it I'm gonna be double my age. 52 and of course that sends me into a whole new bout of sadness. At 52 it is unlikely some of the people I love most will be alive.

Who knows where I will be with my weight.
Who knows where I will be with my husband.
Will I still be living with my mother?
What will my daughters think of me?
Will they be successful?
When I am 52 they will be 28 and 27.
Will I be a grandmother?
Why does my mind spin with pointless questions that have no answers?
Why do I insist on torturing myself?
The answer to that is, I don't know.

Thankfully Buzzy is coughing less.

Breezy's nose is running less.

My body hurts less.

Now, if I could just numb my brain.

That would be incredible.

Just a few moments of peace . . .
That's all I would ask . . .
XO Kristen

Saturday, November 6, 2010


As some of you may have noticed, I went private for about 24 hours and while I am now back to open blogging I am thinking about going to an ‘invite only’ basis.
I have had a few questionable views on my blog. I am concerned that the very few people who I actually don’t get along with in real life have found it and are going to use it against me in any way they can.
Eating has been a nightmare.
I have been extremely stressed.
Can anyone relate to my downward spiral?
Depression seems to be knocking on my door and it’s a persistent little bugger. I find myself lost in thought. I find myself easily distracted from life’s day to day events. The smallest of triggers can send me into an emotional nosedive that I find so hard to correct.
For example, today we went to the Ladybug Bazaar, the first of many Bazaars here in this town that comes when Christmas is near. I went sans children and I felt so alone, so empty. Even though I was with my grandmothers, my aunt and my cousin it felt wrong. Not so much festive and tedious and not so much enjoyable as aggravating. Everywhere I looked there were tiny babies in wraps on their mommies’ chests and I had this squeeze of nostalgia for the two years prior when I too had a newborn cuddled against my chest as I enjoyed the festivities.
I find it so ironic. Last year I weighed around 325 if not more at this time of year but somehow I was happier. Not happier with my body and certainly not healthy, but there was something that is missing this year. I don’t know what it is and have yet to put a finger on it.
For the last week and a half if not two weeks my girls and I have been sick. Runny noses, sinus pressure, cough, sore throat, achy muscles and joints. Not pretty. I missed both my Zumba classes last week because of it and my body is reminding me how good it feels to move and how awful I feel when I don’t. Today we had to do a short sprint across a busy street to get from the Bazaar to the bank. That first sprint had me crunched to one side with a splitting side cramp and it didn’t let up until several hours later. I need to move. There is no excuse not to move. If even a little so I don’t feel this way anymore.
I am pretty sure the term DH is pretty common around the blogosphere and I will be using that from now on to refer to well . . . my DH because like I said I am not sure what might be repeated where (which actually really sucks considering this is supposed to be my own personal diary of sorts – I should be able to say anything I want.) Anyway, I am sure that is one of the leading factors to my roller coaster of emotions. Once upon a time Princess Dieter said that DH was like a drug to me and I think it’s true. The really horrible part is that I recognize the addiction. I recognize the dependence. I recognize the detriment and yet I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to change it. How horrible is that?
Princess Dieter also brought up the theory of being a masochist and I think in several ways that might be true. I don’t know if I think I deserve pain, if I think it’s inevitable so I deal with it or if I actually enjoy it but it’s there. It’s there when I torture myself thinking about the betrayal. I don’t just think about it either. I dwell in it, wallow in it. I imagine it again and again and play it out again and again in my head. I torture myself by scouring the phone bills for phone numbers, reading into the minutes spent on the phone. Reading into the number of text messages sent back and forth. I torture myself on a daily basis. Do I deserve that? Do I not deserve better? My brain tells me of course you don’t deserve that and of course you deserve better but there is a feeling deep inside me that contradicts my brain.
I have been medicating with food. What’s new right? Yeah, old news I know. If you’re disappointed in me, you can bet I’m 1000x more disappointed in me.
And this is where my mishmash of ramblings trails off. Goodnight blog world.
XO Kristen

Tuesday, November 2, 2010


 First pic was taken eons ago. Second pic was taken a couple months ago and third pic was taken today. Do you see the difference I see? Cuz I see a whole lot less belly fat filling in that definition. Then again, maybe I'm seeing things. LOL

Put yourself in my shoes.
I am in love with a man who has hurt me (emotionally) on a fairly regular basis. We are separated. We live different lives, but together. We always know where the other is (not by checking up but just because 10 years of habit puts probability on our side) We have been through shit storms and back. Everything from jealous outrage to postpartum blues to Mexican witchcraft and the recovery after severing body parts. We have history. I have always trusted him as faithful to me, even though I know he is a very flirtatious and friendly person.
9 years ago, 1 year after cutting off his fingers he got a job at a restaurant. He worked with a few women but one in particular he made very very VERY good friends with. Mind you we had only been dating for a little over a year and so I had no reason to believe anything more than friendship was going on. To this day I don’t know IF there was anything more going on. But she did bring him (and only him) food from home all the time. He constantly got calls from her (even though she was either married or involved) He asked relationship advice from her and cried on her shoulder when he and I would fight. Of course this drove me nuts but I didn’t really think anything of it. I didn’t see much of a problem with having a female friend/coworker.
Fast forward 5 years and we are married after having lived some torturous and horrible times as well as some fabulous heavenly times and 6 months in Mexico together. His first long term job up here was at another restaurant. Same situation. He makes friends fast. Both men and women, but he is always drawn to the women to commiserate and gossip and talk with. Again, she would bring him food, clothing, and other things from home. Now that I was his wife, this DID bother me. It bothered me that he got phone calls all the time that had nothing to do with work. It bothered me that he would spend hours on the phone with this woman (who coincidentally had the same name as the first)
He got a second job when times started getting rough. Introduce a whole onslaught of new male friends and 3 new female friends. Laura, Yusmari and Ana. From the beginning they were friends. He would talk about them at home and how they wanted to meet me, yada yada and of course I was never interested. If it was with their significant other or husband or whatever, fine, but why the hell do I want to meet one of your female friend/coworkers? Shits N giggles I’m sure. He spent hours upon hours on the phone with the three of them. In front of me. I tried to be understanding. It didn’t pay off. Then I tried the pissed route and that only made the conversations a little shorter. But they still existed. Gossip on the phone about other people at work, why people are flirting with other people, blah blah blah for hours on MY TIME with MY HUSBAND. Again, he would bring home tamales and clean work shirts that they ‘offered to wash for him’ and other crap.
We separated in 2009 3 months after the birth of my youngest. We were apart for a good 10 months before I decided to REALLY give it another try. I DO still love him. I DON’T ever want to be with anyone else. AND I REALIZE this is a typical abusive relationship where the woman is blind and says these things…blah blah blah.
On my husband’s last birthday when I decided to try things out again, I was taking photos of him and our girls on the carousel when he received a text. From one of those women. It didn’t say anything particularly horrible but I was curious just what they had talked about previously (because on iPhones you have a conversation not individual texting) and so I went to the text and found texts to all three women. The ones to Yusmari had all been deleted but because there was a file it was obvious that there once had been texts. The ones to Laura were also deleted but the ones to Ana were the ones that widened my eyes.
He had gone to Mexico in April. She had texted him that she missed him. Called him Papi and wished he’d come home soon. His text reciprocated that he missed her. I saw blinding red. Jealousy, anger, fear and hate all raged.
I questioned him about it and he said that it was just something he said. That he didn’t really mean it. Uh huh. Yeah right.
A couple weeks later I was still having issues with the whole idea and somehow he happened to come out with that all three of the girls had at one time or another verbalized the want to sleep with him. He said he didn’t. He said he wouldn’t. He loved me too much. Uh huh. I’m not sure I believe him.
He then admits that while we were physically separated that (in his words only on a friendly basis) did he tell ALL three girls about our problems and asked for their advice to which the unanimous answer was to divorce me, get rid of me and pick one of them. Nice. I tell him that if we are to ever have even the smallest argument, whether it is about his life and death circumstances or a selection of socks he is never to talk about me with them ever again. He promises. PROMISES PROMISES.
A couple weeks later we get in a small argument. Something regarding his mom because he is the KING of the mama’s boys. And he goes to commiserate and drown his sorrows with Yusmari. I call him out on it and mind you I was totally bluffing and he openly admits to it. Does the whole apology thing and again promises never to talk about me with them again. At this time I ask him out of respect for me to delete all texts, voicemails (because OMG there were so many) and phone numbers from his phone. He does so.
The day before Halloween we were having a problem paying our cell bill the way we usually do so I had a tech person walk me through the online process and she proceeded to show me all the nifty things you can view. She then told me I could see past bills up to a year and a half before and ‘monitor my kids’ phones’ even though my ‘kids’ are actually his nephews. Which got me thinking.
This is obviously where the phrase, ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ Came from cause I so did not want to see what I saw when I pulled up those year and a half worth’s of phone bills.
Texts. So many texts to and from ALL THREE OF THE GIRLS. Phone calls lasting hours. AND SEVERAL TEXTS AND SEVERAL PHONE CALLS EACH DAY. And this wasn’t JUST when we were separated. It extended even further back when we were living together. Of course I knew he talked to them but I had NO IDEA how much!
So, now with the proof of the massive amount of a communications between these three women and my husband, as well as his admittance of talking with them about EVERYTHING under God’s yellow sun and also admitting that they have openly offered their bodies to him . . . I am at a loss for words. I am so hurt. I am so sad. I feel so betrayed and I feel sooooo STUPID. Worst of all. I still love him which makes it hurt even worse.
The worst of it all… even… he says he deleted all communications. He says he doesn’t even talk to them at work anymore (which I did not ask of him – I only asked he not talk about me) and he says he would tell me if they text or call him. The worst of it is now there is a fourth girl. Jane. Transferred from preparatory stuff in the restaurant to the same position as my husband and she has now offered him her phone number and asked for his in return and scoffed when he supposedly refused. Then he laid it all on my shoulders. He said I don’t let him give out his number nor do I let him have other women’s phone numbers. DAMN  STRAIGHT!! Not with a track record like that!!!
And thee absolute worst part. The part that wrenches my guts . . . he sees them EVERY DAY. Whether he says he does or doesn’t HE TALKS TO THEM EVERY DAY. And I sit here at home twittling my thumbs, letting my heart wretch out of my chest because I don’t know what he says is true and what he says is a lie.
Why? Cuz I know he lied.
Ana texted him a week or so ago. I saw it on our latest bill. She texted him twice. He responded once. I asked him about it. He said she sent one he sent none. I called him on his lie and he said he didn’t tell me so it wouldn’t hurt me. Well, damn then, cuz it’s too late.
I now know what it feels like to be ‘the idiot woman who can’t take her blinders off and leave her stupid cheating husband.’ I know how it feels and it sucks, but let me tell you. There is validity in any love someone has for someone else and just because it isn’t deserved and it isn’t logical or even beneficial… it’s there.
And so I suffer.
XO Kristen
PS: Just in case you couldn't see in the tiny pics ... haha


I am going to be doing an experiment with the formula weight x 11 = maintenance calories - 7000 (2lbs) = calories to be consumed per day.

As the weight will (hopefully) be changing by 2lbs at least every week I will be changing the formula to apply.

For example, if right now I weigh 270 (and I'm not sure that I do because I haven't weighed) in order to maintain 270 I must eat 20,790 cals a week to maintain. In order to lose 2lbs I must eat 7000 calories less which = 13,790 divided by 7 (number of days in a week) means the first week I will need to eat no more than 1970 calories in a day.

If this does indeed work I should weigh no more than 268 by the next week and the following equation will find me my necessary calorie goals.

268 x 11 = 2948 x 7 = 20,636 - 7000 = 13,636 divided by 7 = 1948

And if this does indeed work I should weigh no more than 266 by the next week and the following equation will find me my next necessary calorie goal.

266 x 11 = 2926 x 7 =20,482 - 7000 =13,482 divided by 7 = 1926


Of course whatever the weight changes to will dictate my new calorie goals for the week. If I am able to maintain this however I will have to change up my plan when I reach 175lbs because by then the calorie goals will be nearing 900 a day and I don't want to go below that. That is when I will have to see if I should continue at a 900 calorie per day level or if I need to rethink things.

Of course, I haven't been known to keep with one of my 'plans' for more than 5 months so we'll see how this all pans out for me.

Halloween went as well as can be expected. I had 2 pieces of candy. Two mini heath bar crunches but my restraint did not come from will power, rather a cold that had me wincing with each swallow and doubled over with belly pain. I had a fever and a cough, a runny nose and I ached EVERYWHERE. My aunt had even made chilli with cornbread and I barely got through my first bowl and the cornbread felt like cement in my stomach.

Yesterday I had a big (BIGGG) cup of coffee in the morning, a somewhat big cup of tea with honey in the afternoon and then 1/2 an order of chicken fried rice. I did really well until late in the evening when something regarding my husband upset me so badly I could barely think straight and I took it out on food. I had a super mini binge but a binge none-the-less considering it was around 11pm. 1/4 cup of expired banana pudding which I promptly threw away once my non-taste buds registered the bitterness that was supposed to be sweet. Some Nilla Wafers and some Mission chips. ((sigh))

Then today I was equally anguished with the whole husband situation but I did well. I had 3/4 cup of coffee with creamer, 2 eggo waffles w/ 1 TBSP peanut butter. I wish I had a banana to chop up on it but alas we were out. Then for mid morning snack I had a 90 calorie fiber bar. For lunch I had 0 calorie dijon mustard on a 100 calorie sandwich thin with 2 slices of smoked ham for 25 calories and 1 slice of cheese for 110 + 1 regular strawberry yoplait yogurt.

For dinner tonight is homemade beef stew with potatoes and carrots and the works. My goal is to have only one bowl but I may have one bow of goodies and one bow of broth because my throat hurts so bad and the broth feels soooo good. Then again I may only have one bowl and chug some theraflu instead. LOL

As you may have guessed I am pretty upset regarding my husband. I don't think I'll write about what actually upset me (although if you follow me on twitter you probably have some semblance of an idea) but I realized something today. The situation made me feel so controlled by him and dependent on him. Today as I was wringing my hands and crying and panicking and having horrible thoughts racing circles in my mind I realized something. I don't feel that way (so much) when I am eating well. Eating well is almost a way to 'get back at him'. Because in the future I will have the body, and I will have the self esteem that I generally have anyway and I will no longer be the fat girl who could never be loved by anyone else. Maybe he will never respect me. Maybe he will never value me and maybe he will never see what he had but by losing the weight and the fat it's like losing my dependency on him. I don't need his approval. He isn't the only man who will think I'm beautiful and wonderful and valuable and with each bite I don't take I feel better.


I don't know for how long because I have taken much of the girls' nap time writing this but I am gonna catch some shut eye while I can.

Later peoples.

XO Kristen
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