The Last Supper

A joyous time! A well deserved vacation, cruising the Pacific on an Alaskan Cruise. It was just what we needed. So what does one do for a week on a luxurious ship with endless amounts of food, booze and entertainment? That would be to eat, drink and be merry!

To prepare my body, stomach and soul for this trip I stepped up my work out regimen two weeks before we set sail. I cycled my little legs off and worked my core in pilates. With all the stair climbing, walking, and hiking that we planned to do I was determined not to over indulge that much but, I did. I ate new and exciting things like pheasant and mussels but I stayed away from the soup with tripe. Thank gawd I asked about that one. Tripe is the stomach lining of animals. I still can't fathom that one.

"This soup is too thin and watery. What can I add to thicken it Stuart?"
Stuart holds up cow intestines, shrugs his shoulders and asks Martha, "How about this?"
"Yes, that will work!" Martha replies.

I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. I digress. But not even the mention of tripe can steer me away from eating and eating we did do. Buttermilk pancakes, crazy good pizza, crusty bread, fresh fruit, hot chocolate, Caesar salads, yummy asparagus, salmon, haddock, lobster tails, filet mignon, cheesecake, banana ice cream and much more. I told myself that the amount of calories I was consuming was being offset by the amount of walking we were doing. Oh the lies I tell myself including that what I eat standing up doesn't count. It probably didn't help that my Rule of Thumb on how to not overindulge (when the sun goes down, put the fork down) was extended to past 9pm due to do the Midnight Sun. By the 6th night my pants had enough.

Quoting Weird Al, I sing:

If you see me comin' your way
Better give me plenty space
If I tell you that I'm hungry
Then won't you feed my face
Because I'm fat, I'm fat, sha mone
You know I'm fat, I'm fat, you know it, you know
And my shadow weighs 42 pounds
Lemme tell you once again who's fat.

Whoops. Missed a buckle, or did I?

Fatty McFatfat

I wish someone told me what a heifer I looked like. I find it funny that not only were the pictures above taken one year apart but that I am in almost the exact same stance. Gotta change my pose a little.

So after seeing this wretched picture I joined a gym. It took me almost four months to get my fat ass in there consistently. I blame it on the Holiday Season but I was just really lazy and thought I had enough time to slim down and fit in my wedding dress by May. So midway into January I had a wake up call. I had gone down from 115lbs in August to 110lbs but then back up to 122lbs by January, my heaviest ever. I'm 4'11 so for me this is HUGE!

My scale, my gym and I became best friends. We were inseparable. After 16 weeks of hitting the gym 5 to 6 times a week I lost 17 pounds.


Of course, like all weight loss stories go, I fell off the wagon shortly after the wedding. My goal was accomplished and I got bored and lazy. At first the pounds stayed off but now they are creeping up like a cheap pair of underwear.

No one came out and said to me "Hey Fatty!" when I was fat. It wasn't until I lost all the weight that my husband said he likes me better without the saddle bags. I didn't even know I had them. I asked him if I was fat before and he said yes, but as a good husband who didn't want to die a slow and horrible death, he never told me. I asked him if I was fat now and he said no. Although I now know he'll love me big or small, or that he just doesn't want to die, I can't believe a word out of his mouth.


So now I am going to attempt to get back on the wagon and if you see a version of me that ain't so hot, please feel free to call me by my other name .... Fatty McFatfat.

Blowing The Big Butt Bugle

I've been going to Pilates for months and I really love this class. When I first started I was in the back of the class struggling with the most basic moves such as The Hundred or Swimming. Now I'm in the front of the class and I can successfully do a Roll Over with a Jack Knife. Our instructor has even started including a Pilates Ring and light weights into our work outs to challenge us. I love it.

There are always some new people coming into class and most struggle the way I did. I give them credit for keeping with it. I'll even let the occasional barking spider slide. As I've said before, I've been going to Pilates for months and I can count on my hands the number of times I've heard someone pass wind and I couldn't even tell you who did it ... up until yesterday.

Flatulence man has attended this class 3 times already and I've listened to his Hmmmming and Haaaing as he struggles through the moves. I often want to roll over to him and tell him his form sucks and that is probably why he is having a difficult time but instead I tune his noises out. So as we are doing a Double Leg Stretch I hear a Pffffft come out of his direction. I ignore it. Then I hear another ... rrreeeeeep. This is quite ridiculous. Two in a matter of minutes? Then I smell the faint odor. Oh for crying out loud. Really?! I might be able to handle a little ass thunder but not a stinky one. Yack!

I just hope this incidence has either scared him into returning to Pilates or has forced him to put a cork in it.

The Adventures of Slick Ric

Up until the wedding I practically lived at LA Fitness. I'm the kind of girl who keeps to myself. I get in, do what I have to do, and get out. I don't wear make-up but I do wear dry fit and I almost always have my hair up in a pony tail.

I was going five to six times a week and I often saw a lot of the same people working out there. Since I didn't know them I gave them nicknames. My first regular is "Ass Cheeky." Ass Cheeky is the girl who would come into cycle class and set up her bike almost in front of mine even though I was in the first row. Normally this wouldn't bother me but her attire did after we got to working out. Her cheerleading shorts were constantly riding up her bum and therefore she was constantly picking her wedge. Eeew. After weeks of this, she showed up in Capri pants and she was "Ass Cheeky No More."

There are some other characters who seem to either bug me or make me laugh at my LA Fitness. "Spike" is always at the gym. My husband and I see her there all the time on the stair stepper or doing lunges. She is bad ass and so is her spiked hair. She is the only die hards I see in there with full make-up and hair done and for extra good measure she wears sunglasses, but not at night, just in the gym.

Super-Barbie is a lovely older woman, with big fake boobs, who attends the Pilates class. I haven't figured out why she does what she does but, there must be a reason for her method. She lays down her mat, sits down, and then safety pins a hand towel around her neck like a cape. I'm not sure if she plans to save the world or she is just cold and a cardigan is too uncomfortable. Either way, she always makes me smile.

Last, but not least, is the Owl. There are not many people that I despise at the gym but she is one of them. She goes to a lot of the same classes I go to and I find her etiquette quite annoying. She busts into the class before the previous one is totally done for starters and sets up her little area. Be careful if you are near her because she has no respect for personal space. I call her the Owl because of the sounds that come out of her mouth during the classes. I'm all about whoo-hooing and whatnot but she brings the hooting to a new level. Beginning of the class, hoot, start of a song, hoot, middle of a song, hoot, end of a song, hoot, etc. You might get a "wow" in there sometimes but more than not, it's a dang WHOO-HOO! It doesn't matter if she is on the other side of the room either. Her hooting is loud enough to be heard over the blaring music and the barking instructions of the teacher. I wonder if I could call animal control to remove her?

My husband thinks I am too critical on these people and thinks karma is going to bite me one day, my Mom doesn't want to go to the gym because of "people like me", and everyone else thinks it is funny. If you really think about it I'm a regular and they probably think the same thing about me. I'm the gal with the hard, hair sprayed hair and my sister, well, she calls me "Slick". Oh, Touche.