"For every time there is a season and time for every matter under heaven."
Today has been a day. I have dropped off my youngest children to my (2nd) ex-husband, texted with my second youngest son Cale via his new cell phone. I've also spoken with my older step-brother whom I've not spoken to in over 8 years. And did I mention that my newest FB page has proven to be a place of "finding middle ground" among women from many different places, age groups and cultures? Wow.
Let me just say this; I have wondered for years what the "F" I was doing here. Here=this life.
It's been a trip. Not the figurative, emotional type...literally, a physical trip from place to place: parent to parent: spouse to spouse type of trip. So here I am, fat & not so happy, but working on it. And deciding to invite the world to watch as I figure it out.
The funny thing is...holy shit...the world seems to be responding.
I was born with the desire to help others. It's what I do best. Wanna know why?
Because helping others deters from my need to help myself.
Wanna know what's different now?
I've asked the "others" to hold me accountable for helping myself.
From my mother to my friends, to my gay step-brother in Cali who's decided to forgive me for my jackassness from the bottom of his heart. Yep. All the way down to those who could care less if I just dropped off the face of the earth completely.
Go ahead. Give it your best and your worst. But I'm not going ANYWHERE. I'm not scared of me or you anymore.
Gotta go wipe my nose now.
LY!
b~
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Nothing better than happy & fat dysfunctional supermoms!!!
Ok, so maybe we're not so happy and not so "fat" but whatever. F@*k it. Either way, we're committed. So there.
I've decided that being "morbidly obese" is not my cup of tea. Although, let me just say for the record, that all the research I've done shows that the classifications of obesity are based mainly on waist size and I have a fairly small waist for my 199 lbs. so therefore I say "BULLSHIT" to the classifications. It is my ASS that's obese and my boobs that need the personal training. My overall classification is FINE. Thanks for playing!
Anyway...I saw a video of myself taken at the beach last night. Not in a swimsuit. That would have to be done over my dead body. No, really. Literally. The mortician would have to stage my body in the bathing suit after the embalming fluids were processed; because my fat ass in a swimsuit is not something I (or anyone else in the free world, who still maintains their vision) would ever want to see.
I was in jeans, and dear God...that was enough for me. You know what's worse than a fat chick on the beach? A fat chick with a bad, short haircut on the beach. OMG, people. It was so bad, all I could do was laugh. And start a new FB page.
The Dysfunctional Supermom Weight Loss Support Group.
yep...there you go.
How do we deal with morbid obesity? With sick & twisted humor...oh yeah...and bitchiness. It's just what we do. It's a gift. Hate the giver, not the recipient.
Anwyay. So here I am, putting on my big girl panties and dealing with it and putting myself on a 90 day challenge (no Starbucks...can you say 5 years probation anyone?). But I have friends. Ah yes, you seem shocked.
Is that because my FB page has more fans than my thought out blog? 3 friends, in fact. That's 3 more than I have here. How 'bout them apples?!
Anyway...my personal goal is amazingly NOT to lose 180 of the 199 lbs I'm carrying. It's to lose 30 lbs by Christmas by exercising 4x per week and by starving myself until I'm retarded. Yeah, that's the ticket. I'll be too weak to put food in my mouth.
That's got to be some Hollywood fad diet, right?
I've decided that being "morbidly obese" is not my cup of tea. Although, let me just say for the record, that all the research I've done shows that the classifications of obesity are based mainly on waist size and I have a fairly small waist for my 199 lbs. so therefore I say "BULLSHIT" to the classifications. It is my ASS that's obese and my boobs that need the personal training. My overall classification is FINE. Thanks for playing!
Anyway...I saw a video of myself taken at the beach last night. Not in a swimsuit. That would have to be done over my dead body. No, really. Literally. The mortician would have to stage my body in the bathing suit after the embalming fluids were processed; because my fat ass in a swimsuit is not something I (or anyone else in the free world, who still maintains their vision) would ever want to see.
I was in jeans, and dear God...that was enough for me. You know what's worse than a fat chick on the beach? A fat chick with a bad, short haircut on the beach. OMG, people. It was so bad, all I could do was laugh. And start a new FB page.
The Dysfunctional Supermom Weight Loss Support Group.
yep...there you go.
How do we deal with morbid obesity? With sick & twisted humor...oh yeah...and bitchiness. It's just what we do. It's a gift. Hate the giver, not the recipient.
Anwyay. So here I am, putting on my big girl panties and dealing with it and putting myself on a 90 day challenge (no Starbucks...can you say 5 years probation anyone?). But I have friends. Ah yes, you seem shocked.
Is that because my FB page has more fans than my thought out blog? 3 friends, in fact. That's 3 more than I have here. How 'bout them apples?!
Anyway...my personal goal is amazingly NOT to lose 180 of the 199 lbs I'm carrying. It's to lose 30 lbs by Christmas by exercising 4x per week and by starving myself until I'm retarded. Yeah, that's the ticket. I'll be too weak to put food in my mouth.
That's got to be some Hollywood fad diet, right?
Sunday, September 5, 2010
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