Saturday, August 30, 2008

Doing my part to support the men in blue...

one ticket at a time. Or, in this case, the men in plain clothes performing a sting operation to catch the most heinous of violators; those that don't stop for pedestrians that they are in no way, shape, or form going to hit. Oregon has acquired itself a fairly new pedestrian law. Something about if they set one foot off the safety of their precious little curb then seas better part for them. Thou shalt stop and remain stopped until their fragile sensibilities make it safely across regardless of how long they dawdle or whether or not they themselves were following traffic safety (next we'll be required to offer them a ride to their destination paying no never mind to the ax they wield). For they, said pedestrians, walk on water.

My pedestrian happened to be a plain clothed police officer and, as I can only giggle at imagining, was spending his Saturday walking back and forth across the tiny streets of Aurora, Oregon to catch violators such as myself. Seriously? Aren't there crimes being committed somewhere? Anyway, as my nephew and I were heading to stay the night with my sister we came upon said pedestrian. He was not even in our lane yet as we passed him. Now, typically I am the first to stop and let people cross the street, however, in this instance, I thought getting the hell out of the way and not slamming on my breaks to stop was the wiser decision. As I passed him, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw him getting on his cell phone all the while watching my car. I thought to myself, "No one watches a car like that unless they're calling in a violation of some sort." Enter cop car side street right. Fucker.

I pull over to the sounds of my nephew uttering "Oh my God. We're going to jail." I considered assuring him that the only jail worthy thing I've done was between me and Ben & Jerry and that I stealthfully disposed of any evidence, but thought he might freak out, jump from the car, and have me arrested for kidnapping.

To his credit, Officer What's His Face was not a complete dick as is so typical. Should the circumstances have been different, I might have even liked the guy. I do find it interesting that my thing for men in uniform completely disappears when they are standing next to my car, with their hand on their gun, asking for my license, proof of insurance, and registration. He didn't even take very long writing me my ticket so I didn't have to sit on the side of the road being subjected to rubbernecking for very long. Of course, as they were doing this all day, he probably had them filled out in advance for uber-effectiveness. Sort of like a Mad Lib. Just fill in "Person's Name", "Adverb", "Noun", and "Dollar Amount" and you're done. My dollar amount? Two hundred forty seven (247) dollars. Did I mention I'm unemployed? As he handed me my ticket he said, "Just so you know, I'm not the officer that's issuing the ticket. The officer that was walking is and he'll be the one in court" Thanks, Officer What's His Face, but that doesn't make me hate you any less. No, No, YOU have a nice day. Fucker. Albeit a nicer fucker than most.

I quickly called my sister to warn her before she passed through Aurora, Oregon. HA! One less sucker to meet your quota, bitches. And, should any of our fine men in blue be reading this...I respect what you do, hard job, blah blah blah, don't arrest me. Free speech and what not.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Be sure to drink your Ovaltine!

I’ve been single for four years and in that time I rarely got past the awkward first date. In the off chance that I did, I never saw someone more than three times. At first this was fun and all, but the more time you spend with someone the more you begin to remember why you’ve been single for four years...well, the more I do anyway. It’s just flat out easier that way. In the last four years I never had to worry about just how many other girls I was competing with or if they were skinnier or prettier (OK, realistically, there is a 99.9% chance that they are skinnier, so I guess I still don't have to worry about that, but I still hope I'm cuter). I haven't been forced to come to the realization that I still have a lot of trust issues from previous debacles some would call "relationships". I never had to worry if I was being used for my 4.0 and my insane ability to formulate a sentence in just the right way (I’ve been writing "the boys" papers for school). I never had to worry that I wasn’t appropriately walking the fine line of not saying enough and saying too much. I've never in my life had to sit on someone's couch and wonder what it meant that I was there, alone, while he was showing off my car (not me) to his friends somewhere. And in the last four years, I sure as hell haven’t had to break out my special Women's Edition Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder Ring that I choked down Ovaltine for to figure out what a guy REALLY means when he says things.

There I sit, listening intently to the things "the boy" says, mentalnoting (new word? shame.) every last bit. Then I rush to the bathroom and perch myself aside the sink as I intently gaze upon my special Women's Edition Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder Ring. In true Ralphie Parker style, I anxiously turn the intricate dials of my new age cipher and begin to make sense of it all (while my own personal narrator humorously keeps everyone abreast of the situation as if they can't see for themselves). Here is what I've learned:

"Do you think you could help me study?" really means "Hey, how about you write these papers for me?"

"Are you dating anyone else?" really means "I need to know how many other girls I can get away with dating before I actually have to make up excuses."

"Let's take a nap." really means "Let's lay in my bed and fuck around a little."

"I need to go drop something off at my buddies house." really means "You wait here. I'll take your car. I'll show off your car, not you, while driving my buddies around in it."

"I'd have you come along, but my buddy needs to get to work and it's just going to be a quick thing." really means "I'm ready to show off your car, but not ready to show off you. But, hey, at least they know about you, right?"

"What's wrong?" really means "What did you find out and how am I going to get out of this?"

"I don't think I'm going to be ready to be anyone's boyfriend for a while." really means "I haven't quite decided which girl I want nor am I ready to cut ties with all of them just yet."

"Let's take a study break." really means "I'm tired from watching you type my papers so fast, let's lay in my bed and fuck around a little."

"I'm worried that you're going to turn out to be just like all the other girls I've dated. No one can be this great." really means "I'm worried that you're seeing more people than I am and I need to say something that makes you feel guilty about it."

"We are more than friends." really means "I'm worried that you're seeing more people than I am and I need to say something that makes you feel guilty about it...but I'm not ready to be anyone's boyfriend for a while." and in some regions "Let's lay in my bed and fuck around a little."

It has been a very informative few weeks. The biggest lesson learned is that I have got trust issues like you write home about. Everything he says and everything he does...I analyze. Every text message he gets (and subsequently responds to) and every call he makes...I suspect. Every compliment he gives me and every sweet thing he does...I wonder. I don't verbalize any of it, I do what I'm famous for...I let it stew, fester if you will, until I either push someone away or rationalize it away.

Right now, I'm voting for rationalizing it. I've known "the boy" for only three weeks. In that three weeks we have talked every day, usually multiple times a day, and spent all three weekends together. We are by no means even close to relationship status and who he flirts with and who he dates is none of my business...just yet. Though I'm not spending time with anyone else, there are other guys I talk to and I can't go getting all hypocritical just because he talks to other girls. That's what "dating" is supposed to be about...right? Just because I opt not to hang out with other guys does not mean that my personal choice has to be his. He'll be done with this term of school in a couple days. He'll be less stressed and there will be no papers for me to write for him. Then, we'll see why it was he was hanging out with me; my 4.0 or my stellar good looks coupled with unparalleled wit. For now, I shall keep my special Women's Edition Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder Ring at the ready and forge on into the dating abyss.

p.s. my week of gluttony and lack of motivation resulted in another gain. I'm back to do the math cuz this girl is tired of doing other people's homework.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

All Points Bulletin

An APB is a broadcast issued from one law enforcement agency to another. It typically contains information about a wanted suspect who is to be arrested or a person of interest, whom law enforcement officers are to look for. They are usually dangerous or missing persons. An All Points Bulletin can also be known as a BOLO, which stands for "be on the lookout." I don't care what you call it, someone needs to find the shady bastard that stole my motivation. He is to be considered armed and dangerous. Bring him in, dead or alive!

I can fairly accurately pinpoint when it happened. I saw the culprit tiptoeing around last week when I only hit the gym twice and ate crap for the first couple days of the week. Then I spent all weekend with "the boy" again and I could swear we were being followed. I thought I saw him in the line at the Chinese buffet we went to and then at the Mexican restaurant the next day. Everywhere we went I felt like he was waiting to snatch my commitment...and now he has. I haven't counted points at all this week and it is now Thursday. I haven't been to the gym since last Wednesday. I take really really long naps and everything else I seem to do seems, well, boring. It's like I have Cabin Fever with a side of A.D.D. I have been, for the most part, locked in this house for months and it's really taking it's tole. Now, even if I do break free for a little while, wherever I end up seems just as boring.

When I weighed in on Monday I had gained a pound. I was lucky. I know that. With the way I ate over the weekend, I should have gained more. Now, in the aftermath of going off track for an entire weekend, I can't seem to get back on track. I'm not even drinking my water. I'm destined for very bad things when I get back on the scale. So, I'm tacking on an Amber Alert to that APB and that BOLO. If you've seen my drive, my passion, my fierceness, could you please bring her back home? Please?

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Big Girl Dating

I haven't been in a relationship in almost 4 years. Have I mentioned that lately? For the first two years of that I was completely and totally content with being single. I didn't want a man and found them fairly stomach turning most of the time thanks to the tragedies that were my past relationships. Around the halfway mark I started to venture back out there a little. I knew what I wanted now and would no longer settle. I've gone on plenty of sad excuses for first dates in that time, but rarely did anyone make it to date number two. My personal ad was a bold attempt to end the single streak. If this weekend was any indicator of how my dating life will be, things are lookin' UP!

I woke up feeling fairly positive about the day ahead. The bad news is...the growth on my face that appeared a week ago was still there and no amount of makeup would hide it. I'm not talking a zit, that would have been a pleasure in comparison. I'm talking about a carbuncle (a distant relative of a boil). I've gotten this thing in the same spot, under my eye, close to my nose, every year, for FOUR years. It ain't pretty. The good news is...I was so self-conscious about that, that I didn't have room for being self-conscious about my size. I had pangs of nervousness throughout the day, but nothing too drastic. We talked on the phone a couple times and then it was time to face the music. I went over to his house.

When I got there the front door was open. I walked up as he came out of his room which put him down the hall from me. He smiled and just looked at me for a few seconds. He walked towards me and was still smiling. I'll take that as a good sign. He gave me a great big hug and lingered for a minute. He smelled AWESOME, but before I could tell him, he was telling me the same thing. Well, at least we agree that we smell good. We went to dinner and my booth phobia kicked in. I was cringing as the hostess asked him if we wanted a booth or a table. He chose one of the little romantic tables in the middle. He shoots, he scores! We played some pool and then I helped him study. He must have told me a dozen times what a good time he was having. The chemistry was great and the flirting was obviously there. We ended up spending all of Sunday together, too, which included a lot of studying and a trip to have sushi. I had a great time.

So now what? I'm not sure. We talked a couple times once I got home on Sunday and we talked a couple times yesterday. We're supposed to get together this coming weekend, too. So just how DOES a girl know when a guy is truly interested in her and it's not a bunch of talk to see what he can get? Yes, I'm jaded. I guess only time will tell. I know you're probably hoping for more details, but a lady doesn't kiss and tell...she just makes comments suggesting that there was lots of kissing. Weigh in this morning went well. Five pounds down. We're 28 pounds down and rockin' a 332.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

I've never had a Pina Colada,

but I'm not opposed to getting caught in the rain. Have you ever done a personal ad? SWF seeks SWM for LTR, ASAP? In this day and age, internet dating is all the rage, but how do you sell yourself when you're a BBW (big beautiful woman) when 80% of the men out there are looking for SLB's (skinny little bitches)? Well, if you're me it goes a little something like this...

I'm What Willis Was Talking About

First, and most importantly, my life is in a state of transition. Among the many aspects of my life that are a work in progress is the fact that I'm busting my tail to lose weight and live a healthier/better life. I'm very focused and very determined. YES, I'm a bbw, but I won't be forever. It's cool if you don't find me to be "relationship" material due to that, I get it. You should, however, hang with me if you find me at all appealing. After all, I'm kinda cute and in a year or so I'm kinda gonna be a big deal. :o) I'm just saying.

So, if you're still reading you probably want to know what else I'm about. I'm big into photography and art. I like the outdoors and camping/fishing. Hiking is big on my list of things to do once I lose a little more weight. We can go anyway, but if the incline is all stupid you might have to break out your CPR skills if I pass out or hyperventilate. I hit the gym 3-4 times a week and fit in walks and other stuff on the other days. I eat healthy 95% of the time. I will never give up ice cream/gelato (that's crazy talk), but my threesomes with Ben & Jerry are few and far between now. I crave great conversation...especially over yummy coffee. My friends and family find me highly entertaining and often cry from laughter. If we were to play Uno I would wipe the floor with you. Seriously, it would be embarrassing. I am allergic to chronic negativity, drama chasers, and perpetual stupidity...I'll likely break out in hives. I will cry at movies and I believe that laughter is best when it hurts. I am often found loitering at Starbucks, but my Dutch Brother from another mother scores far more points with me...if only they had places for me to sit and draw/read. I'm just a skosh sarcastic, but I can control it. I love dogs and sometimes tolerate cats. I have an often misunderstood Boston Terrier named Lola. I don't have kids, but like them (er, most of them). I sing in the car AND the shower. I like to go on drives on some of the old scenic highways that Oregon has to offer and often prefer it topless, but before you jump on that email, I only mean in my convertible beetle. I take care of myself and carry myself well, like a lady even. I even rock the pedicures and use yummy smelling lotions and perfume. I hate to state the obvious, but I'm kind of a catch. ;o)

If you can make me laugh, won't make me break out in hives and think I'm cute...shoot a girl an email with some pics.

I posted this little gem, along with a photo, on Craigslist. I decided that my sarcasm was my golden ticket...and it was. I seriously got a lot of responses. There was only one, though, that scored himself a date thus far. He and I started talking on Monday evening...the same day I posted the ad. A couple emails lead to chatting online, which lead to flirting until 2 am, which lead to talking on the phone until 4 am. Nice start, no? At 10:30 the next morning he called me before he even got out of bed. Hmmm. Maybe he digs me. By Tuesday night he was asking when he could meet me. We agreed on Saturday. Let the paranoia begin.

For the entirety of the time between then and now, I've worried about whether or not he would like me. He's seen my pictures and I've seen his, but when you tell someone you're a big girl you have to wonder if their version of "big girl" is in the same weight class as mine. Did he think I just meant I had a J-Lo bootie? Did he think I was simply a thick girl with a fat complex? Did the lighting in my pics have me looking 100 pounds lighter? If so, can I have my own lighting crew follow me around wherever I go? A couple nights ago I flat out told him that I knew he'd like my personality because I'm no different in person than I am on the phone, but that I worried that I was bigger than he was expecting. He basically told me not to worry about it. That he knows I'm working on it and part of the reason he wanted to get to know me was because he was attracted to how determined and focused I sounded in my ad. Alright, sucker, but don't say I didn't warn you.

So, tomorrow is D Day. He's been counting down. He actually wanted us to hang out tonight, too, because his plans changed, but I couldn't. If tomorrow goes well he wants to hang out on Sunday, too. He's very excited about it all. I would be, too, if I weren't preparing myself for potential let down. I know...Miss. Cup Half Empty. I've been doing this "blind date" style dating for decades and never have had someone be disappointed with me. Why do I feel compelled to convince myself that there is a chance they'll run screaming when they see me? I'm sick. I need therapy. After we hung up tonight I lay in bed worrying about it and the phone rang again. It was him. He just wanted to tell me that he was really looking forward to tomorrow and for me not to worry...everything will be fine. I hope he's right.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Paging Dr. Kevorkian...Dr. Kevorkian?

On October 27, 1997 Oregon enacted the Death with Dignity Act which allows terminally-ill Oregonians to end their lives through the voluntary self-administration of lethal medications, expressly prescribed by a physician for that purpose. This entry is not up for political debate, but I will say I'm a believer in Death with Dignity after having watched two grandmothers waste away to nothing from diseases with no cures and knowing there was nothing that could be done for them. They deserved better than that and so does my scale. I feel the courts would consider the assisted suicide of my scale to be a valid one if only they knew how sick it truly is.

I got on it this morning for a Pre Weigh In weigh in. I have suffered one pound losses for 2 weeks in a row and with all the working out I was doing I wanted to see if it was paying off yet. I typically have to get on it 3 or 4 times before I get matching numbers as I don't think the floor in my room is exactly even. I got on it this morning and the number was the same as it was on Monday. It was disheartening, but I knew I had to get on it a couple more times to know the truth. I got on it five times and the number was different every time. I nudged it forward and it just kept on being different. I nudged it sideways and more of the same. Different, different, slightly different, DOH we have a match, different again, and again, and again. I shit you not, I got on there 30 times. If that's an exaggeration, it ain't much of one. It was ranging between 337, my weight from Monday, to 327. Now 327 is a beautiful thing. I've told myself I have to wait until 329 before I can get another pedicure and I could justify getting one before my date on Saturday (yes, you read that correctly) if it truly was 327. I nudged it to a 4th location and got on again. 331.5, 331.5, 331.5...hmmm, apparently we're going with 331.5. It's no pedicure, but I'll take it over one pound any day. I still have until Monday to pull off even bigger numbers for the week (or completely stress eat my way into Saturday's date and gain it all back).

So ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as the facts have clearly shown, Death with Dignity is the only real humane choice before us. With your express permission, I shall open the window at the top of the stairs and send her plummeting to her death. No really, it's a very dignified way for a scale to go.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Is it love?

I think about him all the time. I find myself wanting to spend more and more time with him every day and the more time I do spend with him the better I feel. Any day that I haven't seen him is a day that I feel lost and out of control. Sometimes our time together leaves me disappointed, but sometimes I come home feeling like it could not have possibly gone better. He makes my heart race. He gives me faith in myself. He makes me stronger. He makes me proud. He makes me see my potential. He makes me feel like there's hope for my future...that there's nothing I can't do.

Is it love...or is it a psychotic break from reality brought on by 7ish weeks of calorie reduction? Things are getting serious between Gym and I. Our initial plan was only to meet on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and to see other people the rest of the week. I can't live without him (literally). Today is Thursday and I found myself at his doorstep for an unscheduled rendezvous. If feeling this way is wrong...I don't wanna be right.

So pick yourselves up off the floor kiddies, mamas pushin' all her limits. Not only am I consistently going, but I'm busting my pasty pale tail. No, really, I'm even sweating...errrr "glistening." Yesterday I even tackled my arch nemesis...the elliptical. If you'll recall, I've tried it only once. I lasted all of three seconds. I had to hold my weight up myself (uh huh, I do realize the world record I broke pulling THAT off) and was going so fast that I thought for sure I would fly right off the thing. I didn't know how to use it and didn't set any resistance or incline. I am now aware that this is a critical component of successful elliptical workouts. I managed 15 minutes yesterday and did 30 today. Tack on the other cardio I'm doing as well and all those Barbie lookin' Phi Beta Delta Kappa Gamma Ho's better watch their backs. I'm bringin' my "A" game, bitches. You're goin' DOWN!

Before I go, I want to give a HOLLAAAAA to all of you that read this and especially those that post comments for me. It really keeps me motivated to finish this journey when I know I have the support of all of you. You are loved!