I have learned something about myself over these past few diet weeks...As much as I hate to admit it, I cannot blame Chubby Hubby for my weight gain. He and I are in this diet challenge together and he seems to be doing it without any issue what-so-ever. I am doing it, but I am complaining and I am soooo sick of sliced chicken breast and asparagus. I want wine, bread, cheese and peanut butter. Strange as it sounds I am not craving anything sweet, but he is not craving anything at all; What's wrong with this picture? I swear those tables should be turned. He is the dipper and chip lover, not me. How can Chubby Hubby have more will power than I do? Don't get me wrong, I am not cheating and I have found it challenging, but I have persevered! Perhaps I should be referring to myself as, Plump Partner, rather than calling him Chubby Hubby!

Twelve pounds and counting, I will be wearing shorts this summer; I will, I will, I will. But man a Margarita Pizza sure sounds good :~p

Never attend a Wine and Chocolate event when you are dieting! That was one of the most difficult things I have done. While everyone was drinking wine, eating tapanade, bread that looked amazing and bruschetta, I ate cucumbers. The things we do to try to be thin! Why oh why can't there just be a pill that will allow you to eat whatever you want whenever you want and a machine you can just stand on to loosen the fat and allow it to just roll off? Can one of you genius types please invent something? Speaking of machines, my friend Bambi and I went to the spa and they had this machine that was supposed to help just about everything imaginable, you were supposed to stand on it for ten minutes and let it work its' magic. There was no magic (not that I thought you fell for it, nor did we), we really just wanted to see what it was and try it out. It vibrated, but not in a good way, it actually hurt certain parts of your body that I won't go into. Let's just say, it was not a good thing, I ended up with an earache and Bambi a headache. Of course by the time we had a couple of glasses of wine we were fine, those were the days! Oh how I long for a glass of wine, a tough chewy piece of bread and cheese.

I guess it's true, size really does matter. I have now lost 10 pounds and I have been asked what I have done differently. Now, I realize I have more to lose or they would have noticed what it was, but hey, it's been noticed. Just a few more pounds and I won't be wearing double digits anymore; I'm so excited!

It's funny how when you mention you are on a diet, people tell you about the things they do to keep themselves in shape. Today I heard a new one...this guy I work with does not eat anything with a face. Now, I don't know about you but I have never seen a face on a cows butt? LOL, I have to stop thinking like that because that's how I got to where I am in the first place.

I am planning a trip to the beach and I need to be able to wear a bathing suit, I have 25 pounds to go and I sure hope the pounds go from the right places because at the moment that is not the case! Wouldn't that be my luck, I got a bust reduction and now I will lose weight and what the surgeon didn't take will go with the weight and I will have to join the itty bitty titty committy!

Putting things in perspective...I have lost seven pounds and I was disappointed with that until my chubby hubby, (soon to be hubba bubba) pointed out that I have lost seven bottles of water, of which I drink two or three each day. Then I realized, seven pounds is what some babies weigh. My pants are too big so that's a good sign. Oops, gotta go dinner is ready, fish and spinach with water, yummy.

SIZE MATTERS, SIZE MATTERS, SIZE MATTERS...I must keep reminding myself of that! Gosh I miss bread, oops, I will have none of that! I have got to stop whining, wine, oh that sounds so good, stop that!

Keeping our eye on the ball...

We must remain focused and to help us to do so, we are keeping our future bods in plain view. See us in 90-days below:

As my son said, you can do anything for a month...so chubby hubby and I are going one month with no sugar, no starches, no wine, no diet coke, none of the things we typically eat. This weekend is being spent eating all the things we fear we will crave. I actually have a piece of Chocolate Coconut Cheesecake in the refrigerator, but for some strange reason I don't have the desire to eat it. I am hoping to turn the three pounds I lost into thirty lost pounds, although truth be told I should really lose forty. Which brings me to my question of the day...While walgging (that's walking and jogging) on the treadmill for what seemed like an eternity because I forgot my headphones. When I finally stopped to move to weights, I realized it had only been fifteen minutes. Why is it when you get a massage, fifty minutes feels like ten, yet when you exercise, fifteen feels like an hour? Think of how thin we would all be if exercising was like getting a massage. Which brings me to my second question, why can't a massage therapist can't just knead fat out of you, sort of like when you squeeze the sausage out of it's skin; we can just open our mouths and fat can ooze out while we are resting comfortably listing to sounds of the ocean. Can someone out there please work on that because size matters and this is one time we want it small!

This is it...I was all dressed and ready to go the the gym when hubby told me dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes. Rather than exercise for ten, I am going after dinner. I wonder how much I will be able to do after eating pasta? It is wheat pasta with ground turkey but still. More than likely that will be my excuse for not over doing it. I love that I always have hubby to blame for my failures! I did not get the opportunity to have my oatmeal this morning because I had two new hires that kept me busy until about 11:00 with paperwork and orientation and all. I had a healthy lunch, in fact my assistant was so kind he asked them to make my portion smaller than usual because he noticed that the last time I had it, I threw a good part of it away.

Okay, I just finished my pasta and I now have a terrible case of heartburn, is that a good excuse for not exercising?

Perhaps it's like swimming and I have to wait for half an hour.

Oh this sports bra is killing me, but if I take it off I will not go. Oh poop, here goes.

Oh one last thought, I could work out until I get sick and purge the pasta I just ate, now there's a good head start, I am so clever! Bye for now.

I just can't get motivated! What is wrong with me? If Kirstie Alley can do it, I certainly should be able to. Did you see the hill she climbed? After watching her last show I looked into a fat farm. I thought that perhaps a week at a fat farm could give me the boost I needed. Let me just say, those places are not cheap. While I seek an alternative I had better get ready for work or I will not even be able to give thought to considering a fat farm. On the other hand, without a job I could not afford to go out to eat, which is in part how I got to the place I am today. Just kidding, I have to get over it and get motivated.

I am open to suggestions if anyone cares to share some ideas, perhaps Meatless in March has some ideas, he seems to have done an amazing job, the skinny little bitch. LOL, he's my son, I can say that and get away with it! Looking at my fit children should be a good reminder that I am not supposed to be fat. Oops, time to get in the shower, bye for now.

I am not a happy camper! I just watched Kirstie Alley's new show and she must have read my blog (LOL). But seriously, she is doing what I set out to do only she is doing it in front of a camera. She even stole my pet name, well sort of. I called Rich my Chubby Hubby and she is calling her handyman her Chubby Buddy. I guess now I have to compete with her.

There is one thing she thought of that I didn't and that is, rather than say how many pounds she needs to lose she refers to how many stones she needs to lose. A stone is valued at fourteen pounds. It is much easier to say I need to lose about three stones. No more weekends like the one I just had, yummy as it was. Here goes, wish me luck!

We just came back from having an amazing meal and let me tell you... little Miss Skinny Bitch came up with a good one. They served us four pieces of the best Bruchetta I have ever tasted and each of us had eaten one piece. I knew we were going to have an incredible meal so I was going to stop at one, but Bambi said, "You know, we really should eat this bread because we need it to soak up the alcohol we are about to drink." Is that genius or what? So, we just ate, both pieces of bruchetta, gnnoche, eggplant, butternut squash ravioli, and veal/filet mignon meatballs. I swear Bambi had a private moment with her meatball!

Did I mention we had two melon martini's each, red wine and special dessert coffee. Now we are about to open another bottle of wine and play slumber party while wearing our matching Victoria Secret PJ's!

You may be wondering what happened to my blog. Here's the thing, I really thought that humor would motivate me and help me to exercise more so that I had funny things to write about. Unfortunately that has not been the case. Instead, I work long hours and I am too tired to think about exercise. When I get home I start thinking about things I can eat and I actually entertain the idea of eating bad stuff to give me something to write about. I am one sick puppy! I am still down three pounds but I have not been working out. I can't say I have been bad (with eating), but I have not been great either. I am sticking to stopping when I am full and I find that restaurants really serve large portions. This gives me an idea...remember the old days when you went to a restaurant and they asked you if you wanted to be seated in "smoking" or "Non-smoking"? I think they should start asking "Fit" or "Fat", that way if you are watching what you eat, you don't have to see the fried mozzarella or banana cream pie cross your path, the fatties on the fat side will be eating that! You will be happy with your grilled veggies and baked chicken on a tea party plate!

My friend Bambi is coming to spend the weekend (skinny bitch #1) she hates when I say that, but anyway, I am pretty confident that aside from the fact that I am taking her to my favorite Italian restaurant and I bought a nice bottle of Pinot Nior, we will probably eat pretty healthy. I sure hope I don't find the three pounds I lost while at Gaetano's!

Okay, as if perky little skinny exercise types don't bug me enough...

I was so looking forward to the weekend so I could sleep in. However, I was rudely awakened by a kid testing a microphone and sounds of women with annoying laughs and voices preparing for some sort of event. Apparently there is a fund raising run taking place on this beautiful day. Had I known, I might have participated, at least if I was getting some exercise I would feel as though getting up at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday was for a good cause! Instead, I am not able to open our doors to enjoy the beautiful day because the singing fourteen year old is awful. She is singing songs that should be sung by adults and she is so bad that the dogs are all barking obnoxiously. So much for sleeping in. I did practice Spanish for an hour or so, caught up on some emails and facebook and now I am writing this blog.

We were invited to Malibu for the weekend and decided not to go because hubby and I are both exhausted and didn't want to make the drive. Bad choice, at least we could have slept in and been awakened by the sound of crashing waves rather than cackling hens and singing that compares to scratching a chalkboard.

The big question is, shall I get motivated and go for a walk or go to the gym?

Weighing myself this morning reminded me of the fact that in the past, when someone asked how much I weighed I would say, "The last time I weighed myself I weighed 120 pounds". Of course, I never bothered to tell them that I had not weighed myself since I was about twenty. Another thing I used to say was, "I wear a size six" and then under my breath I would say, "in underwear". That was all well and good for a while, and then, I got too big to get away with it. The rude awakening was when I went to the doctor and when the medical assistant told me to step on the scale and the little thing had to be moved I was sure she was stepping on the corner of the scale. Unfortunately that was not the case. Five pounds became ten and ten fifteen and so on, I am going to put an end to this cycle. Tonight I had turkey and asparagus. Okay, so I just ate a Milano, but that's it! I guess I will see how Meatless in March is doing.

I actually lost three pounds! Three pounds just by not continuing to eat when I am full. What a concept! This is better than the time I joined one of those popular diet places, ate their food, followed their program without deviating at all and gained a pound.

I was chatting with my friend Eric yesterday and he reminded me that I need to get back on the tennis court. We used to play every Sunday and I gave up tennis when I took up hockey; now I am doing neither. Thinking about my tennis days reminded me of a funny story, once again involving my pre-bust reduction. I was playing with my friend Joan, we were in a USTA tournament and I was serving. Our opponent hit a drop shot and I ran for the ball from deep in the court and because of my being top heavy when I lunged for the shot at a dead run, I could not stop and I proceeded to flip over the net, I rolled and jumped up pretending I was not hurt. We were in a tie breaker set and I was not going to give up, nor would Joan have allowed me to. My husband was upstairs watching and I knew he was having a fit so I refused to look up at him; I just continued to play pretending everything was fine. Meanwhile, I am not even sure if our opponents noticed that I was holding my racquet in my left hand because I could not grip with my right. My shoulder and back were killing me and my hand was throbbing; but we won the match! Those were the days, I think I do need to find myself a partner to start playing again. Oh Andre, I am ready when you are!

Yesterday I commented on all the fad diets and then I came across the US Weekly with Kelly Osbourne on the cover. First let me say...says she lost 42 pounds, which is right about the amount I want to lose and she looks really good, now. But what scares the poop out of me is the way she looked before dieting...if I need to lose 40 pounds and she lost 42, does that mean I look like she did pre-diet? OMG if that's the case I really need to get motivated! Kelly's plan is a low carb diet and she does not deprive herself of the things she really likes, so hopefully she will keep the weight off, unlike K.A. (Cheers) Kelly's plan reinforces my belief that eating off my tea party dishes is the key! All those fad diets and diets that deprive you of the good foods are only temporary because as soon as you reach your goal and start to eat the things you like, you still have not taught yourself to eat smaller quantities and you end up right back where you were, hence K.A. We Americans are so spoiled and we eat too much. Remember the days when there was no such thing as super-sized! I have gone back to stopping when I am full, thereby reducing my portion size and yes about half of what a restaurant serves is all I need to be full.

I was thinking about all the crazy diets and fads that are supposed to help you lose weight; such as:

Cabbage soup diet Lipo-suction Dexitrim

Atkins diet Lipo-dissolve Alli

Low carbs Slim-fast Medifast

The cookie diet Nutri-system Jenny Craig

Weight Watchers Lap-band

All these crazy fad diets and very few actually work, why can't we just learn to eat smaller portions? I went to Target tonight and purchased a set of tea party dishes from the toy department, my theory is to eat whatever I want, but in small quantities. What was my motivation? My friend Ali's boyfriend...watch the attached clip and see if you can figure out what diet he was on. Click herehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXJjMagxCno

please note, this is really not my friend, but I wanted to share!

You know how, when you are up high on a cliff or something and a person will say, "Don't look down and the first thing you do is look down?" That's the problem with the word diet. As soon as I say I am on one, I want things that I don't even normally crave.

I decided the key is to NOT use the word diet, rather I am right sizing, it's used in business, but I think it fits better personally.

I need all the help I can get, and I hope you realize that I know this is one me, when I blame my hubby for buying cookies, I realize that he is not force feeding them to me. It is up to me to exercise and right size. Why is that when you go to the market to buy produce, they put the bakery right next to the produce. So while I am selecting the best oranges and bananas, I have to pass by the cookies and donuts, that is just not nice!

That's it...I have to get motivated; no more excuses, I must get back to an exercise routine and start eating the right foods. I woke up at 4:30 yesterday and could not get back to sleep so I cleaned out my cupboards, one of which was my pantry. I figured I should get rid of anything tempting. There were potato chips and milano cookies, both milk chocolate and dark chocolate. For the most part, it looked pretty good, the pastas are wheat and no other really bad things. Here is the problem...I started to throw them away and this little voice said, "You shouldn't waste good food, just eat it all and don't buy more." Or shall I say, don't allow hubby to buy more for me, it's all his fault you know. Oh there were Reeces eggs too, but I took those to the office to use during training last night. Will power is not easy, I have ice cream too, but that's in the freezer. Baby steps right?

I was listening to old music and one of my favorites came on; the song used to be about me; I was once a Brick House, but now I am an Apartment Complex , or as my friend Lisa would say, "Double Wide"and that just does not fit as lyrics so I must get motivated! Do you think hearing that song was a sign? Does anyone have any brilliant suggestions for motivating me?

I cannot take credit for this posti, but it was too good not to use...

Dear Diary,

For my birthday this year, I purchased a week of personal training at the local health club.

Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.

Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

________________________________

MONDAY:

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god-- with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!

Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines... I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!

________________________________

TUESDAY:

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It's a whole new life for me.

_______________________________

WEDNESDAY:

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.

Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members.. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.

My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too..

_______________________________

THURSDAY:

Butt hole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late-- it took me that long to tie my shoes.

He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny witch to find me.

Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine-- which I sank.

_________________________________

FRIDAY:

I hate that jackass Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.

Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the darn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.

The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

________________________________

SATURDAY:

Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel...

________________________________

SUNDAY:

I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

I am still not feeling well so I don't have my usual inspiration, but I was thinking about a couple of things from my past. When I was about thirteen, my cousin Monica and I wrapped ourselves in saran wrap; our intent was to sleep that way in hopes that our stomachs would shrink while we slept. My mother caught us and made us take it off. I can't help but wonder if we were on to something; look at the money being made by spas with various wraps. Gee Mom, not only are you partially responsible for our belly's, you cost us money too! LOL

We had to go buy a new bed because ours was one of those air mattress types and it had a slow leak, of course on my side, which just adds to my insecurities about being fat. Anyway, my hubby said, "just throw on some sweats and let's go because we have to place our order before noon to get the bed delivered today." I do not have any sweats because that is another of my fat rules, "fat people should not wear sweats because it only draws attention to their fatness". So, I threw on a pair of jeans, these were newly washed jeans so they were a bit tight and then it occurred to me, I really prefer to wear my jeans multiple times because it gives the impression that I have lost weight because my pants are too big. I am going to start wearing my jeans for a month without washing because people may say, "Hey have you lost weight?" And I will say, "My pants are looking a little big!" It's not like I will lie or anything, I just won't tell the truth. Now if they say, "Hey have you gone without washing those jeans for a month because they look all stretched out? Then I will have to admit, not only am I fat, I am a pig!

I was chatting with a friend last night; well to be specific I was chatting with my skinny bitch friends daughter. We were commenting on how little miss skinny gave me the rule about only eating things that have a mother, came from the ground or are not white and Geri and I were remembering when we were skinny bitches and believed in those rules. We once could not understand how someone could allow themselves to be so large they had to actually wear a double digit size. Then Geri pointed out that she got in a size eight and proceeded to put her butt in her mother's face to point out that she was in an eight. I guess Geri is now a skinny bitch too!

This blog was supposed to motivate me not my followers; what's wrong with this picture? I was sick and I mean felt miserable, yet didn't lose a lousy pound.

I have all these odd fat rules if you will; such as never eat standing at the kitchen counter or over the sink. Don't eat off the plate of another person, don't eat while you are cooking, I don't even taste while I am cooking, I just trust my recipes! If my french fries are too salty, I can almost guarantee that the person who salted them was over weight. With all these rules one would think I would not be fat; I wonder what size I would be if I did not have these rules?

I have a head cold or something, my head feels as though it is going to explode and both ears hurt, even my teeth hurt. I stayed home today hoping to sleep it off but as soon as I lay down I start coughing. One would think I could drop a few pounds while I am not eating, but my stubborn body appears to be holding on to its' fat for dear life, acting as though I may never feed it again. It seems my fat has found comfort in all of its favorite places; my inner thighs, my back, the floatation ring above my belly and my arms; I swear there is no muscle in my arms.

I guess there is one positive to being over weight... My husband and I were out with friends we hadn't seen in a while and one of them commented on the fact that he felt we women were aging better than the men were; I pointed out that my husband, although bald, has very few wrinkles and this friends comment was, "That's because his face is so fat you can't see them!" I told my hubby that I would not make him the belly of my jokes, but that is some funny stuff!

Knowing I have a full face, makes me feel as though fewer wrinkles show as a result, so there's the silver lining, I just may go eat some ice cream!

A friend of mine once told me that if you only eat things that have a mother or come from the ground, you will be eating healthy and will be more likely to stay thin. Oh, she said not to eat anything white either. She is my age, thin and healthy so there must be something to it. I thought I would give it a try, I lasted about three days and then had a brilliant idea...

I'm sure you are all familiar with the three second rule; so does that mean if I drop a brownie on the ground and pick it up and eat it that it qualifies as coming from the ground? I will use the three second rule!

Okay, I know she means grows in the ground, like fruits and vegetables, or has a mother like eggs and meat, but I think I mentioned earlier that when it comes to food, many of us can justify anything. I had a friend once who threw donuts in the sink an ran water over them so she would not eat them and as I recall, she did so any way; okay, I am not that bad, and I want to be a size eight so while in New York, I will shop rather than eat. Perhaps that is why my husband does not mind my being chubby.

I am in New York and I have been pretty good, if I do say so myself. We had a delicious dinner tonight, I had sea bass stuffed with crab. If only I had stuck with my meal; we had sides for the table, amazing mashed potatoes, incredible mac and cheese and I have to admit that I shared creme brule with my daughter, I figure sharing helps, right?

We have walked and walked and walked, which leads me to a rather funny story. My heel got stuck in the crack of the side walk and I almost fell. Being in New York and all, no one seemed to notice, but later when I stepped on a rise in the cement and almost fell once again, there were people who saw that and found it as funny as I would have if I saw a chubby woman trip in Town Square!

I am pretty sure Donald Trump's son was at the table next to us. If it was him he looks like he has lost some weight and he is better looking than I thought. I said it before, size matters.

I am in New York for the weekend and just had dinner with friends. We went to an amazing Tapas place. Nicole and I shared a bottle of Pinot Nior and we ate buffalo mozzorella with red peppers and pricuitto to start with. We then had chicken, skirt steak, scallops and shh don't tell anyone, we shared cheese cake.

I realized, for me diet is not a four letter word, it's an acronym...Did I eat that? The answer is yes and it was amazing. I walked two blocks to the apartment, that should count as exercise, right? Over dinner, Nicole gave me a great idea, in the future, when I want cookies, cheese cake or a brownie, I will eat them in the morning, her rationale is that I have all day to work it off!

My daughter and granddaughter arrive tomorrow, this ought to be an interesting weekend, they each weigh 100 pounds and like to eat. Oh, I forgot to share my plane ride. You know how you always seem to get stuck next to the fat person who incroaches on your space? Well, today I realized I may be the fat person, I was sitting next to my chubby hubby and felt as if I could not move my arms, I hate sitting on a plane, I mean really, who is comfortable on a plane? If you are comfortable on a plane, you must be a size two because size matters!

Over the years I have tried various diet and exercise programs. I have had three personal trainers, oh wait, make that four. I forgot about that one big hunk of a... That's not what this blog is all about. Back to my exercise routine. I typically asked for the best looking guy as my trainer because I figured I would be more likely to push myself if he was good looking. I did push myself, when I was there, but somehow I always found other things to do and gave up training. I played Wii for a while and got bored, I rode my bike, I walked, I did various dance, kick boxing and crazy videos with annoyingly perky people. Most recently I joined a club that offers just about everything you can think of. Booty boot camp and kick boxing are my favorites, but I did try pole dancing. Let me say when you are my size and you have to stand in front of a mirror between Trixi and Candy in their five inch spiked heels and short shorts, you decide that you look more like you belong in the window of a mexican restaurant in San Diego making tortillas then pole dancing! Word of advice, don't pole dance if you are larger than a size six because size matters!

Before I share some fun exercise experiences with you, allow me make reference once again to my bust reduction. Here's a visual... imagine a cross between those little gel guys from the Dr, Scholls commercials and the little scrubbing bubbles guys from shower cleaners; are you with me? That is what I invision is happening to me, these little fat fellas are running around finding new places to attach themselves because they know they are not supposed to be in my boobs or belly. Where did these little annoying fat fellas decide to make a home for themselves? Well let's just say I look as though I am wearing a child's flotation ring! I have this roll of fat all around me from just under my boobs. If I could somehow move the fat from under my arm and my back, to my boobs I would need another reduction!

I have heard people blame menopause, did they put the words men and pause in there as a very bad joke? Are we supposed to pause and reflect on how we once looked?

That's enough reflecting for one day, I will share an exercise story tomorrow, come back for another helping!

The ugly truth...if you wake up one morning and look in the the mirror and ask yourself, "How did I allow myself to get here?" You may be using justifications and rationalizations so please accept my tips below:

• French fries are not considered one of your vegetable servings
• Orange slices made by Brach's are not really a fruit serving
• Milk Duds are not dairy even though milk is in their name
• If it's low calorie or fat free it does not mean it's okay to eat more

You will find that I may exaggerate from time-to-time, but that's just for the entertainment value. For those who know me, knowing when to insert sarcasm is useful too.

Now that I have your attention with the title; allow me to explain what my blog is all about.

The idea is to share my painful, delicious and entertaining experiences as I have gone from a size zero at age sixteen to a size twelve at age thirty nine/ten.

I will begin with a little history. For as long as I can remember, I was self conscientious about my stomach. When I was less than 100 pounds, I wrapped a towel around me when I got out of the pool so no one would see my belly.

About five or six years ago, I had a brilliant idea. A bust reduction and tummy tuck would give me the body I wanted. In my mind, once I was rid of the belly bulge and those heavy, neck and back wrenching things I carried around, I would be happy with my body.

Was I wrong!

Stay tuned