Why do my car mishaps crack me up so much?

My car hasn't locked in like 7 months... well it locks but then it doesn't unlock with the key so I just leave it unlocked all the time. I apparently have issues with owning cars that allow for proper storage; while my first car actually did lock the driver's side door handle was broken so I just left her unlocked all the time. If someone's going to bust into a 20 year old Volvo to steal crap then we'll just let them feel good about themselves for doing so and make it easy. At least then they wouldn't have busted a window and cost me $500 so they could steal nothing. Except for my cds that one time. That was my bad for forgetting them, but that doesn't make it okay for people to take shit. 

Jack (my current car- I have a complex in which I name or nickname everything and everyone I come into contact with) has been fine since I've started leaving him unlocked, thanks Portland. All winning streaks must come to an end though (right LA? HA!) and on Thursday morning when I left for work the door was ajar and the glove compartment was open. Damn kids. I was annoyed with them for rifling through my stuff but also spent the whole drive to work laughing, they tore the car UP but I couldn't even tell, my car is so full crap like old shoes and a broken umbrella and mix cds that are scratched beyond recognition. 

The only thing of any value at ALL in the entire car is my death star (should that be capitalized?) key chain that hangs around the rear view mirror and they left that thank goodness! Oh and all my canvas grocery bags and even though they're only $1 each I'm glad they left them, I've bought so many already. 
 

It took me till this afternoon to realize what was actually taken because they left a single one on the floor mat, taking the other 14 or so. Leftover beer tokens from the Oregon Brewers Festival. You. Bastards. Though in all fairness they had been sitting in my car for almost 3 years now. I volunteered there once and they paid me in tokens. And as much as I love beer and festivals devoted to things that I love there were just too many damn people and crowds give me gas. I've never been back because the thought of touching other people in the dead of summer freaks me out so the tokens just sat there and unused. I tried to pawn them off on people but never had any takers. So hopefully the damn kids will get some use of them.

While I was rummaging around trying to see what, if anything, was taken I did find two things I'd been searching for. A CD case from the library that years ago I paid a fine for losing was back there. And my sunscreen that I looked for that one day it was sunny. Maybe it'll come in handy in August, we'll see. So thanks ransackers for unearthing some hidden gems for me. Much obliged, I'm sure.

The worst part of all this is that if they had closed the door and the glove compartment I probably wouldn't have even noticed anything was amiss for a couple days. The damn kids didn't get anything of real value, except maybe some sort of airborne pathogen from all the shit in my car and they helped me find something I'd been searching for! Win win! I was seriously laughing my ass off on the way to work thinking of what they thought they'd find in a BMW and only finding crap piled on top of crap. Seriously, a baggie of pistachio shells, a half a roll of toilet paper, an empty perfume bottle. They could have at least thrown everything in a garbage bag and taken it with them, it would've helped me out a lot.


And yes, I'll clean it out this weekend I promise.

Weeks 16-17

5/3 - 5/17

...in which it's really been 52 weeks.

On May 17, 2010 I decided I was too fat. Too fat again. How did this happen? I blame beer and fudgesicles. Totally all their fault.

With Brittany on our drive down to Vegas the first week of May last year.

I wasn't necessarily unhappy like so many people on fatty reality shows are. I wasn't fat because I was sad, or because I had a rough childhood or because I was scared of who I really was when I wasn't fat. I knew who I was. I was funny, outgoing, smart and pretty damn clever too. Also I swore WAY too much and had substantial burping problems. I still am (and have) all those things, just in a smaller package. I've LITERALLY (yeah, I did that) been working my ass off and it does look fabulous. I'm pretty much forcing everyone to look at it whether they want to or not.

With Brittany again just last week! And yeah, I have a thing for giant sunglasses.

Even though I love Biggest Loser, weight loss is not a journey. I HATE that they call it that, it makes it sound like we should be sad and weepy all the time. Like Odysseus. Oh, did we not read the same copy of The Odyssey? No wonder I hated it so much. It's been hard crappy work that forced me to give up a lot of things I really like. Like my friends and booze. I've just recently started drinking again; many weekends of excess and I think I need to put libations on the back burner for a while. At least till I go to Alaska. But losing weight SUCKS. I'm sweaty all the time, my car smells like a foot because I'm always either on my way to the gym or on my way home from there. And I can't wait till I don't have to count calories anymore, it's SO boring. I don't CARE how many calories are in my Hungarian goulash I just want to enjoy it!

But there's a plus side to all this of course. I love to complain, but you can't argue with results. I can do more at the gym than I ever thought I could (even though I bitch and swear a LOT) and it's totally worth it. I went to the Rogue brewery in Newport last weekend and my three beers, fries and meat did not sit well- my body was definitely rejecting my decisions. I felt like shit that night (totally worth it though GOD I love beer) but it was good to know in real life I'm making the right decisions and my insides are super happy (most of the time). Also, I know a lot of people aren't sure if it's kosher to compliment someone on losing weight, to mention it might be admitting that you thought they were fat before. But guess what. I was fat before. I know I was fat. And I want EVERYONE to notice how good I look and tell me. PLEASE tell me! We all strive for validation and adoration cause it feels good to be appreciated when working so hard to reach a goal.

Also, you can tell me I'm funny too. Because compliments are awesome and looks aren't everything. It's okay to be shallow sometimes, but c'mon. Grow up will you?

PS- Weight? 178. That's 38 total pounds gone (even with a 4 month break over vacations and the holidays!). I've lost just about 15 inches from everywhere on my body. That's science. I've gone from a size 16 to a 10 and an iffy XL to an M. That's math. Shopping is fun now and I love everything just a little more than I did before. Being a skinny bitch is awesome.

Week 15

4/26 - 5/2

...in which everything amazing happens.

This isn't a week for gym and food and weight talk. I did go to the gym and cook and bake. Whoop. I did lose weight and now I'm closer to my goal. Yay. I do need new pants because my 'first stop' goal 12s are way too big now and need to be washed constantly. Another yay. But this past week has been one of the best EVER that I even had to make a list so I wouldn't forget all the cool stuff that happened.

Tuesday morning I got a call from one of my best friends letting me know there was a job opening in her office and I should come by. I curled my hair up real pretty like and rushed over there, ended up with an impromptu interview and an invite for a second. Sweet. I always do well in interviews, it's my ebullient and self-deprecating nature I do believe. I decided I needed to spend some time in the travel section of Powell's because it's pretty much my favorite, first stopping off for tacos, because those are also my favorite. Another one of my best friends texted me to tell me her water's broken and she's in the hospital. Three weeks before her due date! It's slow going but she'll keep me posted. Of course I'm on edge for the the next 24 hours, but that's nothing compared to the 24 hours of labor my friend is in with no consideration to the pins and needles I'm sitting on. But then Wednesday morning BAM there's another person on the planet and she's so so small and so cute I can't stand it.

Thursday I got to visit Ellie (Elisabeth Miriam is way too big a name for such a tiny girl so it's just Ellie) and she's so adorable, when she blinks it's the best thing I've ever seen and every sound and face is like something new and exciting has just happened. I love it but I don't really know who I am anymore.

Thursday night (Friday morning) was, of course, the royal wedding and yes I stayed up for it. My gym buddy spent it with me and, after we made a midnight run to the gym to help us stay awake, there was Boddington's and Newcastle in wine glasses, jam tarts being made at 2:30 in the morning and lots of giggling and talk of fancy hats. It was amazing. Also, I made turkey bacon guacamole burgers and homemade sweet potato fries for dinner that night so it was a pretty unbelievable day/evening/early morning.

Then I found out I got the NEW JOB so I was able to put in my two week notice at my current place (which gave me great joy, even though I'll miss my co-workers very much) and start thinking about a life with a set schedule, weekends off (beer festivals here I come!) and paid vacation. LIKE A GROWNUP! Everything's falling into place.

Now it's time to buckle down and start ignoring my friends again so I can reach the goal I set for myself before I leave for Alaska. 8 pounds in 8 weeks. I've done it before. I can do it again.

Week 14

4/19 - 4/25

...in which there's a veritable fashion show.

No weigh in this week. I haven't been awesome, what with Easter candy lining my arteries, but compared to Easters past I was a freaking beacon of self restraint. Did you know 4 gummi worms have 140 calories? That's bullshit and I'd much rather use those calories for a beer. Or one and a half fudgesicles. Also, I type fudgesicle a LOT, why isn't in my computer's dictionary yet? On Easter I did eat a whole (mini) bag of Cadbury chocolate eggs but it took me all day. And I had one of my cookies. But that was it. Damn good.

Last week I was dreading dress shopping for the first batch of weddings I'm going to this year. Two of the three I'm the photographer so I have to be professional, nondescript, but still look good. Cute, but keeping the legs mostly covered and boobs in locked and loaded position. Which can be tough. But there were dresses! Oh so many dresses at White House Black Market. I used to not be able to shop there, and because of my ample bosom and generous German back I'm still a 14 on top. But a doable, zip myself up kind of 14. I must have tried on eight or nine dresses, two of them I tried on multiple times before settling on a super cute polka dot one. I couldn't be more pleased. I wasn't even planning on buying anything today, resigned to the fact that dress shopping is for suckers and I didn't have a chance of finding one that works for me. But 35 pounds is a harsh mistress and I felt really good for the first time in a while. The dress I bought even has a cute bow/belt thing that I snap with the SECOND snaps, not the first ones. Bam. Skinny Nicole.

To celebrate, a German feast of rotkohl, kartoffelsalat and pork. And beer. Of course beer. I would be a disgrace to my heritage if I tried to lose weight by giving up beer. It was a good thought for those two days, but now I'm back to reality. Back to beer. And it's good.

Weeks 12-13

4/5 - 4/18

I work I work out. I work I work out. I go to wedding showers, baby showers, funerals, happy hours and then back to work and the gym. I enjoy tofu more than I ever thought I would. Prosciutto wrapped asparagus changed my world for the better. I've officially cut cheese out of my diet and feel pretty good about that. I'm now vegan except for the meat. And I will never stop eating the meat. I drank WAY too much beer over the last two weeks and am going to try really hard not to drink for... at least the foreseeable future. But I make no promises. Since my flat iron is broken I've started curling my hair and that's pretty cute for now, we'll see how long it lasts. Probably as long as my vow to stop drinking. UPDATE: Curling my hair lasted one day and not drinking lasted two. It's the playoffs! I can't be held responsible for my actions.

When I got on the scale yesterday I wasn't expecting a big number. What with the aforementioned many nights of beer drinking and cutting back on my cardio at the gym. Except for Wednesday nights. That's when Elyse and I watch American Idol. No judging.

I also wasn't expecting a big number because I'd lost 10 pounds in the previous six weeks. That's pretty damn good and I knew my body was going to be all "wait a minute meow, you're doing this again? Can't we just lounge and watch Mad Men and eat fudgesicles and drink wine?" And I say NO to my body and go back to the gym. Sucker. So I lost one pound over the last two weeks. I'm now 182.6 and getting ever closer to my first REAL goal of being 'normal' and not 'overweight'. Not bad considering I started just a hair inside the 'obese' category.

One more pound gone and 34 pounds total. I'd like to hit 40 by Memorial Day weekend and my gym buddy's wedding but either way I should get started dress shopping now. Ugh, dress shopping. I'd rather go beer shopping.

Oh and watch these. I've been obsessed with Epic Meal Time for a couple weeks now (thanks Tron) and these are a few of my favorites. They'll either make you really hungry, really disgusted, or just plain fall in love with Canada all over again.

Breakfast of Booze

Meat Cars

Meat Salad

Week 11

4/1 - 4/4

...in which my ass looks good in my goal jeans.

So it's only part of Week 11 but since I wrote so much last week I don't need as much right now. Unless you want to hear me bitch about being a privileged white girl that's too tall and getting skinny. You don't? Too bad. Apparently if I'm a size 12 Tall then my pants fit okay but if I'm a 10 Tall then I've somehow managed to lose weight AND about 2 inches off my height. So annoying but I'm pretty okay with it being my new biggest problem.

I weighed myself on Monday for the first time in two weeks and I was down three pounds. 183.6. Long way down from my original weight (33 pounds, whoop!) and pretty damn good I say, especially considering the day before I sat on my ass and played nine hours of Mario Kart for our annual tournament. (I came in 3rd and I'm just as proud of that as I am of the weight loss!) Yes, I did go to the gym in the morning, but there's usually more movement the rest of the day. I also had delicious bacon lager purchased for me by a friend who knows my penchant for bacon anything. Especially booze. Though I am still terrified to try bacon vodka, it just sounds awful and the only proper use I for it is in a Bloody Mary and I don't really like those anyway.

So even with the ass sitting, the beer drinking and the way too much sugar and crap (though for me it still wasn't as much as I used to ingest, I get full and sick faster now) the three pounds were quite nice. And not weighing myself gave me time to notice other things, like how my body seems to finally be figuring out this is for the long haul and is shaving down some inches. Just two weeks into my training workouts and I can notice my upper arms (the bane of my existence) appear smaller and better in t-shirts. Not that I've been wearing any t-shirts since it won't get higher than 50 degrees up in here, but still.

Also my skin looks way better. I'm sure the vitamins help, but I'm pretty sure diet and exercise are the real reasons everything on me is looking nicer these days. Also, I'm wearing my goal jeans right now (right now as I'm typing this!) and am only one (ONE) pound away from the lightest I've ever been as an adult. Sweet. My next few goals are easy. Six pounds here, four pounds there, another four here. Then I've given myself no time limit on the final six (or seven) pounds. They'll happen when they happen and I'll feel damn great about it too.

Week 10 (ish)

3/22 - 3/31

...in which I finally stop weighing myself every damn week.

On Thursday I weighed myself and saw that I'd gained a pound. It was stupid of me to weigh myself in the middle of the week and only three days after such a huge win (3.5 pounds for those with poor memories) but I did. Cause I'm a dummy. And the pound gain didn't upset or depress me, I just got annoyed with myself that I would waste my good energy by letting a stupid number get me down. When I got to work I confided with my gym buddy that I had cheated and she told me she had too (neither one of us has great will power, that's how we kept those trim figures for all those years...) and gained a pound also. We decided not to be dummies and stop weighing ourselves so often and focus on our clothes and how they fit, the measurements and the compliments. GOD I love the compliments and I'll get to my very favorite one in a few.


At first we were thinking once a month, but again that will power I know I still don't quite have (though I haven't had a fudgesicle in like 3 days (too much sugar) and I'm dying a little on the inside) I figured I could make it two weeks. Which means weigh-in isn't until April 4th and it seems so far away. Now this decision has a downside too, if I don't lose what I think I should in two weeks I might be a little disappointed, but I also know that I'm working really hard, trying new things and it's definitely paying off.


On Thursday I went to a class (24 SET) that made me sweat more than I've ever sweat. It was gross and smelly. My hair was a nightmare (one sweat soaked strand was sticking straight out of my head, it was actually pretty awesome) and my face was red red red. But I felt good. Exhausted but good. Then Sunday I got to (finally) see a personal trainer. And if I haven't said it before I love him. So adorable and too smart and I got worked really hard again. I hadn't fully healed from the class (my abs were killing me every time I sneezed, coughed or laughed and I do those things a LOT) and here I was doing even more things that made my face red and my hair stick out straight from sweat. Awesome.


So no weigh-in Monday. And it felt good. I felt good. Well, my abs felt better but my shoulders (10 pound dumbbells! And I didn't complain once. Till now. It was HARD) and my quads were a wreck. I like to mix it up. Later in the week it's my hamstrings. Thank god for the handicap bar next to the toilet. But today at work I was talking with a customer about quitting sugar (or trying) and then something else happened (I only remembered the most important part of the conversation you see) and THEN she told me I was a "skinny minnie" and to shut up! It was the best thing anyone's ever said to me (for real she's awesome and I love her) and I freaked out. Then my gym buddy told me I looked tall and not jiggly at all running on the treadmill this morning. Another win for NJ!


So no matter what the scale says on Monday (especially cause it's the day after my Mario Kart party... I'm only allowing myself one bottle of wine all day. Maybe a giant beer, I haven't decided yet) I know I'm pushing and working and doing the best thing I can for my body and my soul. And the rest of the world. You'll thank me when you officially meet Skinny Nicole. It'll be worth the wait, trust me.

Week nine

3/15 - 3/21

I can't wait till next week so I can stop spelling out the numbers. Bet you didn't know that was a rule, right? One through nine are spelled, 10 and up and just numeric. "The More You Know..."

Okay, grammar lesson over time to talk Skinny Nicole. Cause yes, I've finally had a week to be proud of. My body realized after nine weeks that I wasn't going to give up no matter how much bullshit it threw at me. Two pound gain?! Too bad, I'm still working my ass off (LITERALLY, ha!) and I'm going to reach my goal. Think a fat ass can dissuade me from going to the gym? It's just going to make me work harder so suck it.

And all my hard work totally paid off this week. 3.5 pounds down. In one week. Damn right. 189.7 to 186.2 and I think it's the best jump I've had in weeks. Months even. It seems like almost too much, but in the last 3 weeks I've lost a total of 4 pounds so it's not really that impressive. But it also means that I've lost 30 pounds since starting back in May of 2010 and that I'm still on track to hit my goal of 55 pounds lost by August of this year. Of course, I'm expecting a lot of backlash next week for having such a good week now, but I'm prepared and I'm willing to mix it up a little to keep that from happening.

But no matter what, I feel good and I look better than I have in years. And that is seriously worth all the time and energy spent. Also, can I say again how much I love my gym? It's like a refuge from work and home. Plus there's cable.

Now it's time to hit said gym and for my favorite past time, staring at others while they work out and silently judging them for the choices they've made. Those shorts? Oh honey, no.

Not about weight.

I'm probably one of the whitest girls in America. Not just because I live in Oregon and see little to no sunlight nine to ten months out of the year. I mean like white, white. I have very little rhythm, no ass to speak of and I speak like a Valley Girl. Totally.

But I love music. Most all kinds of music, as long as it's good and I can appreciate it. Classical, rock, hip-hop, even some country. Now I'm on the B.o.B. bandwagon- he's just so adorable. And I've always been a Mos Def fan. I know, he's rap for white people, but still.

My first introduction to hip-hop and rap was in 1994 with Mr Nate Dogg and Mr Warren G singing about driving around California looking for some ladies and finding trouble instead. It was a seriously awesome song and I still love it. I just heard (thanks social media) that Nate Dogg has died, and at only 41 years old. When I rediscovered the song a year or so ago, I stumbled upon the Regulate (song) website on Wikipedia (my usual source for information) and thought it was pretty hilarious. Of course I didn't think anyone else would remember the song or appreciate it so many years later, but now, after a celebrity has died it becomes okay to admit you liked the more ridiculous aspects of their careers. Michael Jackson and Man in the Mirror springs to mind. No one admitted to liking that song when he was alive but the day he died and for months after they played it non-stop.

So I just thought I would share the tongue in cheek explanation of one of my favorite songs. Bonus points to the author for using the word surreptitiously.

And RIP Nate Dogg.

Week eight (and a little bit of seven)

3/8 - 3/14 (and 3/1 - 3/7)

I didn't write last week on purpose. Usually I don't abide by the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" rule. In fact it's quite the opposite. I will usually only say nice things behind backs (if I like you) or not at all (if I don't). I know, that doesn't make sense, and there is a bit of hyperbole in there (cause I speak mostly in hyperbole and other forms of exaggeration), of course I say nice things to the people I like, how else would I keep them around? But I digress. Week seven was an asshole and I didn't want to talk about it then. I'll talk about it now.

The first week of March was my "mix-it-up" week. I went to the gym in the morning. In. The. Morning. Anyone who has ever met me knows that mornings are not my thing. I tend to grunt, swear and make a lot of ridiculous noises and hand gestures. So I try not to venture out of my house before 10am, for the good of the people. But something had to be done. I was STUCK in the 190s. You know because you've been reading. Or you know because I just told you. But I was stuck and if working out in the morning was going to help then I was going to do it. I pushed up my intervals and only did 35 minute workouts. I upped my weights and reps when I did strength training. I even had to buy weight lifting gloves for my baby soft hands that have never seen a day of hard labor. Well, one day. I got paid cash and it was worth it. And while I didn't watch my calories like a giant overweight hawk I did keep it in check and within range.

So when I got on the scale Monday morning (the only indulgence of the week was the maybe two or three margaritas the day before) and I'd GAINED two pounds I got really pissed. I didn't even gain two pounds over Christmas. I know (I KNOW) muscle weighs more than fat. I know (I KNOW) my body will take a while to adjust. I know (I KNOW) I shouldn't let it get me down. But it does. And it did. When someone has 60 pounds of fat on their body, HALF of which they're trying to lose, putting on two pounds of muscle isn't the problem. It just isn't. But in the long run (ugh, I hate running) I couldn't let it bug me too much. I flung myself onto my bed Disney princess style (with more swearing of course) and grumbled (and swore) for a while but then decided it was time to move on and keep trying. 192.1 lbs means there's nowhere to go but down.

Problem was, on my way to margaritas and Mexican food on Sunday I'd fallen really badly down my driveway. Stupid moss. Nature and I already have a pretty tough time together without it actively trying to hurt me. But time + tragedy = humor, right? It's already getting to be pretty funny when I think about how I must've looked. I did fake man splits when I fell, spilled water all over myself, broke my key chain and my shoe flew off. Of course I yelled a swear and it echoed through the neighborhood. As I type now, nine days later, my foot wound still hurts and is painful to the touch. Because of the weird angle at which I slammed to the ground, my whole right leg was sore and along with the wounds I skipped the gym for two days, just watched really closely what I ate.

Then I did what I wanted for the rest of the week. If I wanted to work out at night I did. If I wanted to do strength training, I did. I bought some "old-man-pooping-drink" (or Metamucil, mmm... orange flavor) to help with my fiber intake. I bought strawberries and made lentil soup, but still wasn't getting enough fiber. I started taking my vitamins again. I made sure there were always vegetables in the house and started eating quinoa again. I've missed quinoa, it's SO good if you haven't had it. So much protein and it goes with pretty much anything, I enjoy it with sauteed veggies and a little chicken sausage. Delicious. And the trick is to make enough so I have lunch at work the next day. If I forget lunch at work I'm pretty much screwed, I don't have the calories (or cash) to spend on anything that's not homemade.

I tried, but I didn't overdo it. Trying to lose weight is such a bitch. There's so many emotions that go along with it. Mostly guilt and anger, but for those split seconds when the scale shows some progress, it's (almost) all worth it. Yes, clothes fit better (I have to wash the "skinny" (not actually skinny) jeans I bought just so they'll fit me, I've gone down two sizes and I can just pick a Large up off the rack knowing it will fit, it's wonderful), I have an omnipresent collarbone - side note: there are WAY too many pretty, skinny girls with really bad posture. Is it so things don't stick out weird? Is it to showcase boobs? Hide a non-existent gut? I'm confused and you need to stand up straight - and I am rocking short hair like I never thought I could, but it's nice to see the results ON THE SCALE.

Monday morning. Finally results. Finally in the 180s. Yes it's 189.7 but I could NOT care less. It says 18- at the beginning of my weight and I'm on my way again to being "normal" for my height. Only 10 more pounds till that milestone. And till I weigh as much as my youngest brother. And that's more exciting than any number on the scale.

But I'll get into that next week.

Week six...

...in which I'm pretty sure my body is messing with me.

2/22 - 2/28

Because of my minimal 0.6 pounds lost last week, despite keeping my calories around 1450 every day, I upped my foods this week to allow 1680 calories a day. That's suitable for a pound and a half loss a week and that's more than what I'm aiming for. And more than what I've been losing.

Yeah, I slacked off a little (just a little!) at the gym this week too. I went five times, but only once or twice even broke a sweat. I just wasn't feeling it. So am I surprised I only lost 0.2 pounds this week? A little. Mostly I'm annoyed that I'm still in the 190s two weeks later. So how did I celebrate my 0.2 pound loss? By drinking beers and eating curly fries of course! But they were the best beers and the best curly fries I've ever had. Ever. I will request Lagunitas (Brown Shugga' mmm), Deschutes (Red Chair NWPA delish) and some deep fried potatoes be sent into my tomb with me, a la the pharaohs and their cats.

I was bad last night. But I plan to be good the rest of the week. I'm upping my reps and my weights, I'll make sure to keep my heart rate up and sweat more. I still refuse to run more than 3 minutes at a time though. I hate that shit.

Week five!

2/15 - 2/21

I've gotten really good at counting calories, but I'm still having problems making those calories count. Whoa! See what I just did there? Came up with that as I was typing. Skinny must bring out the genius in me.

Even though I'm putting all my food into my calorie counter app, I still haven't mastered the beauty (or math) of it all. When there's good TV on (and as I've discussed, this happens all too often) I can't help but stay on the elliptical for an hour or more (why oh why are you SO good Jersey Shore?!). My "personal trainer" (I use quotes because he takes the time to tell me what I'm doing wrong every now and then even though I can't pay him money to do it regularly) tells me I should only be working out 35 to 40 minutes a day. When I work out too long, I burn too many calories and my body goes into some kind of... cortisol... something. I don't know, he speaks a lot of science talk and I zone out.

Also, when I burn those 700 calories I'm supposed to be making them up over the course of the day by eating more. And that's where my problem lies. I drank too much last week (and for me, that means 2 days in a row) I ate pizza for breakfast too often, and I made delicious, delicious chicken salad for lunches. Yes, it's made with vegan mayo, but that shit isn't healthy, it just doesn't have eggs in it.

So I'm still around 1600 calories a day, plus my workouts, but it's not enough. There's too much sugar (story of my life) and not enough fiber. There's plenty of protein, but that's because I've been mainlining homemade trail mix for days and putting peanut butter on everything.

When I get on the scale Monday morning, I really want to be out of the 190s. Last time I lost weight I made it down to 194 and then started packing on the pounds again. I want to be in the 180s so I know this is for real and I know I can keep going.

0.6 pounds down and now I weigh 190.3. Yes, it's a loss, but in my head it's not enough. In my disappointment about not hitting that really important goal, I miss the fact that I've officially lost 25 pounds since I started last May. 20 of it was last year, and six of it in the last five weeks. And in the long run that's not too bad. If I keep going, in 20 weeks I'll be at my goal. And if I don't, in 20 weeks I'll be right here still. Not that I'm going to quit, it's just nice to have a little perspective.

(Also, yay for my gym buddy who lost 2.2 pounds in week five and is officially in the mid-180s AND has lost 30 pounds since we started! Couldn't be more pleased for her success.)