Click the links below for more info. You know you wanna do it!

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

VSG Surgery: Happy Birthday to Me!

 Happy Birthday!
I'm not sure what this day will bring, but so far its been full of greatness! I've had almost 50 messages on my FB wall, 10 text messages, tons of HBD tweets...and its ONLY 8:35! The love and support that you guys give me, not just today, but every day is something so special to me.
I just noticed that this cake looks like its sweating...or squirting. not sure how I feel about that.

You guys are the Yin to my Yang.
the Ren to my Stimpy.
the Ike to my Tina...only you won't have to tell me to eat the cake.

I couldn't do what I do without you guys and I thank each and every single one of you on this most splenderifficly frabjous day! Don't ever leave me :)

Oh yeah, if anybody would like to send a limo to pick me up, take me shopping, out to eat, koala kidnapping at the zoo, dancing, drinking, kite flying, drag racing on I-35 and then drop me off tired and ragged a few blocks from my house
....ssssshhhh...don't want the neighbors to start taaaalking.....
you know where to find me.

Image: digitalart /

Sunday, May 29, 2011

VSG Surgery Writing and Questions.

I don't remember my weight cause I didn't plan on blogging today.

I was tagged in a writing challenge on twitter.(Thank you @canticles and @willufight4life) Being the contender that I am, I of course threw down the gauntlet and charged head on. Here is the challenge with which I have been tasked.
Tagged bloggers, please tell us in a post: Why You Write? Please also tag 5 others and offer them 3 pearls of wisdom for other writers/bloggers.
I want to start with the words of wisdom. Well, the word of wisdom cause its all I got.

#1 Your voice is your own and you cannot be anybody other than yourself.
There were a few posts that I wrote here recently and I felt that maybe I needed to be a little more motivational. I don't think I'm a pessimist, but I just felt like I wasn't enough and I needed to be something else. But after sitting for a few minutes, I realized that all I can give you guys is me. It was such a simple, but stark realization.

#2 Oh yeah, allow anonymous commenters and people will comment more!

I was a few days out from surgery when somebody on a forum I frequented asked me if I was going to blog. It had never occurred to me that I could blog. But just like that, I made up my mind that I would.

In the beginning, I'm not sure who I was blogging for. My blog was a mix of weight log, journal, scratch pad with no clear course of direction, even though I always had a bigger picture. Although I had few, if any readers, once I jumped headfirst I knew that I wanted it to be bigger than myself. It was never just about me. I wanted people to hear my voice. Cary Tennis said it way more eloquently than I could.
"When I have crafted something colorful that seems to cage my pain and then I carry it through the streets like an exotic bird, I do not need people to walk up to me and tell me they see the bird. They see it. I know they see it because I walk by them carrying the bird in the cage, holding it aloft."
I need people to see me. I do not ever want to be invisible. Writing is the most selfish and selfless thing that I have ever done. I give myself willingly so that I can in turn receive the knowledge that I am reaching someone. That gives me a fulfillment that I've never found anywhere else.

I've always been a writer. I remember in elementary school I got scolded by my teacher because she was absolutely certain that I had copied or had someone else write the paper that I turned in. Even as a child, I was that good, but there are various points in my life at which I forgot that. It happens slowly, but so suddenly. The spirit, once full of promise and the gilded glee of naivete naturally ages and dulls with the patina of loss, and labor, and life, and listlessness.

The glee gets replaced with the grind
whimsy with work
overjoyed with overtime

Dreams, no longer nurtured by the fountain of youth, lose their verdant hue. They dry and wither and atrophy turning into a sparkly powder that floats away on the breeze swirling and whirling and twirling like a sad dancer. The sad dancer, voiceless yet pleading, begs you with her eyes, but you don't even see her as you compare the unit prices on boxes of trash bags. And just like that, you forget that you want to be an opera singer, a veterinarian, a ballerina, a writer.
But the sparkly powder is tenacious as glitter, and even as you trudge through life unawares, there it is stuck behind your ear....hiding in your the crease of your favorite pants. And although you gave up on your dreams, little, little sparkly piece of dream powder hasn't given up on you.

It waits quietly for the rains to come.
It waits for the right season.
It waits for someone to ask you, " Why don't you blog?"

Image: africa /

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

VSG surgery Grazing and Stress


Yesterday at around 1:00, my electricity was cut off. I had to drive to Dollar General and buy a corded phone so that I could have a link to the outside world. After a few nerve rackingly, frustrating round yelling at the automated voice on the other end, I finally was able to speak to a live person. I was so heated.

#1-I am an automated billing, but yet again, for some reason, its not getting processed

#2-It wasn't a huge bill

#3-It was due on May 6th! It's not even 3 weeks overdue!

Really this is how we treat people?!? I am SO over companies.
Did I mention that I bought a bag of Cheeto puffs when I bought my corded phone? I didn't? Well I'm telling you now that I did! My electric company made me buy Cheetos and eat a good portion of the bag. Total zombie cow day. I even grazed on the good stuff (chicken breast with veggeis) all day long too. UUGGGHGGHGHGG!

I'm so over EVERYTHING that stresses me. Yours truly is officially going to retire and live the life of a lady of leisure-fainting spells, Pirin tablets and all. In addition to my personal assistant and my nanny,
I'm going to buy me a harem of Ethiopian women who can cook for me and a bevy of Kenyans who can run on treadmills in the guest room so they can make me electricity. You know Kenyans got the cardio game on LOCK!

Oh yeah, and I think my birth control is making me bat shit crazy. I've not been on hormonal birth control for a gazillion years, but I don't remember feeling like this last time I was on it. Its fucking with my emotions, my body, and my appetite and all in the worst possible way. I don't know what to do. Its been an uphill battle with my eating since I started using hbc about a little more than month ago.

Do I toss my my hormonal birth control and keep doing what we've been doing? It works, but the hbc is FAR more effective.

Do I stay the course and hope it stabilizes?

What if I stay the course and the side effects don't ever go away. That's better than taking the pregnancy risk. Right?

 I don't know.  All I do know is that I'm going to try to stay in control of the things I can control. I said try. Pass me a wet wipe. My fingers are orange.

Image: Danilo Rizzuti /

Monday, May 23, 2011

VSG Surgery BBGC and Support groups


My weight is up some, but eh, what the hell. Life happens and it WILL keep happening.

How was your weekend? How exciting! Oh, so how did that laundry folding go? Good, I'm glad that you didn't drop a red sock in with the whites this time. Oh, how was myyyy weekend? Thanks for asking....

It was the best weekend EVER!

I'd been up all night on Friday playing the Sims doing lots of fabulous things so I was a wee bit tired when the morning rolled around. After a flurry of outfit changes...corset? NO.....latex? NO.... I was finally out of the door. I knew where I was going, but the city of Dallas decided to shut down an entire freeway so that threw me further behind. UGH! When I finally made it to the spot, I knew it HAD to be the spot, because it was the right address. But, it didn't feel like the spot. There were lots of old men and trains and not a sign in sight or pink and black balloons telling me where I was going. I went around to another door, and I was like fuck it, I'm just gonna go in. If I get attacked by an old man in a conductor hat and overalls, then I guess that's just life. Then I saw signs with arrows. Oooh, I was getting close. After what walking for what seemed like an hour, I opened the door and was at the inaugural meeting of the North Texas BBGC!

There were no women with horns and pitchforks.
Is it God or a simple confectionery delight?

There were no small children being sacrificed to the Cupcake Gods ( how else do you think they can eat all of the CRAP and live to tell about it?!)

There was no crazy couch jumping or thetan scanners. 

There was just a circle of people with different stories to tell. Pretty much like you'd imagine any other support group. It was the first RL wls support group that I'd been and I loved it. Nobody was there gushing about how AMAAAAZING their surgeon was, or how utterly FANTAAASTIC post wls life is, or how much of a GEEEEENIUS their nutritionist was. Just real people with real issues, real concerns. Nobody was blowing anything up anybody's ass. BUT, in the parking lot I overheard the perky ass blower on the phone telling her perfect husband that she didn't think she was in the right spot cause there were no PINK AND BLACK BALLOONS!!! and that she was going to come back home and just make an expensive organic brunch for her perfect family instead. Besides, she didn't wanna get paid in Click and rubber bracelets.  Anyway....There was fellowship, laughter...overuse of AMAAAAAZING coming......AMAAAAAAAZING sugar free cupcakes, and an AMAAAAAAZING group of people. I will SO do it again.

At the meeting, I met a blog follower! She didn't know who I was, but she was certain that I looked familiar to her. She just couldn't shake the feeling that she knew me from somewhere. We continued talking and I bragged mentioned that I was the world renowned, Pulitzer prize winning, spoken word Grammy nominated, blogging sensation also known as Waning Woman.  Then she gasped, " Oh my God! That's where I know you from. I follow your blog but I never comment. I recognized your body." That was an AMAAAAAAZING feeling. I was school girl on the back of the school bus after an away football game kinda giddy. Oh wait......sorry, that's slutty........When say that I am always genuinely happy to meet you guys, I mean it. I still haven't been able to fully absorb this whole *waving hands around* thing, but I love it. I've said this before, but I'm gonna say it again, you guys really do mean a lot to me. Whether you're a follower, and thanks for following cause I HAVE noticed, or a quiet lurker, thank you for sharing this with me.

Well, I'm gonna go and just finish up the rest of my BEST WEEKEND EVER!!!! post another day.

Image: John Kasawa /

Thursday, May 19, 2011

VSG Surgery Oversleeping and Lazy


Today I hit a milestone exactly one year and three months out from surgery. Its kind of a big deal, but I'm gonna sit on it for a little bit until I can make sure that its real. Its a really good thing and I've shared it with my inner circle, but I don't wanna get too excited just yet.

The Sandman must have climbed in bed and did unspeakable things to me cause my ass slept in like a pregnant teenager after the graveyard shift at Wendy's. Jeepers! I didn't stay up any later than usual, so I don't know what's going on. Well, I take that back. I have a sneaking suspicion about what's going on. Even though I have tons more energy overall, I find that when I'm actively losing weight I feel way more tired than usual. Even though the scale is barely creeping down, I know that's not an adequate gauge of my weight loss cause I look smaller to me. I've been doing a shit ton of weight training, too so you know what that means. Weight loss, but Bessie really can't measure it.

I'm a koala! A sleepy one to boot.
The Sandman's bastard son, Molassesman, came to visit me as well. I didn't do one productive thing today. No, I did wash my hair, but if you knew exactly how long it'd been since shampoo last had touched my tresses, you probably would have scheduled me for a dip, an add on pyrethrin treatment and de-mange and the nearest vet. *giving myself the side eye* I haven't folded one stitch of laundry, put soap on one dish, picked up anything off of the floor, NOTHING! In my defense though, gritty leftover sand PLUS molasses really puts the kibosh on any movement that you wanted to do for the day. That's a lot of friction and in the worst possible way. I hope I don't get fired from being a housewife. OOOHH, my demented mind has come up with the perfect solution for the next time this happens. When PT comes home, Imma tackle him at the door, strip him naked, ride him to sleep, and when he wakes up a few hours later I'm gonna act like all of that mess happened while he was asleep."No baby, it was clean when you got home. I don't know what happened while you were sleeping!"  I'm an evil genius!!!

I've barely even eaten today. Breakfast was a Premier protein shake, lunch was a Coke Zero and a handful of animal crackers, and my midday snack was the same handful of animal crackers. My food intake for the day hasn't been ideal and I know I can do better, but I JUST DON'T FEEL LIKE IT! I don't want to make a salad, I'm too lazy to warm up food that already in my fridge, it is just one of those days people. Can somebody come peel me off of this chair, lay me on the couch, and put the remote in my hand?

Image: Michelle Meiklejohn /

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

VSG Surgery Depletion and Exhaustion


This morning I woke up dragging along like a half dead escargot. I was starving! It felt like my stomach was about to touch my back, eat a hole in my spine, climb out of my body, go and open the fridge, nest in the mayonnaise jar, and suck up all of the calories through osmosis. I had a slight headache, felt slightly nauseous, too. The best word to describe it is "depleted". I was thisclose to not going to the gym, but I went ahead and put on my big girl panties and handled up. I reenergized with two heaping spoonfuls of peanut butter and a Premier protein shake and after a few minutes I seemed to feel a bit better. I haven't felt like that in a really, really long time.

Its not my water either. My pee was the approriate shade of straw yellow, thank you very much. I've been doing surprisingly well with my liquids for the past few days. I bought a 32 oz Tampico, poured that mess down the drain, and now I have a little mini 32 ounce container I can mix my drinks in. If I get at least one of these and a protein shake I know I am hitting my minimum for the day. I'm good for today already. The thing is though, with water is a daily battle. Even if I do extra good and get in even more than I'm supposed to, I just piss my hydration goals away in an overly diluted flush. If I can store my food, why can't I store my water? Why don't I have specially designed water cells that live in my titties that will expand in times of plenty? Hmmm? Can somebody answer that for me? I promise you, if I kept water in my titties I would neeeeeeever be on here talking about "Water is gross! I gotta choke it down! Death to water!" Once again, I'm calling on the resourceful Japanese to make this happen.

My eating has been mostly low carb with a few handfuls of Froot Loops thrown in the mix everyday. In fact just talking about it is making me want to get some so I'll brb....ok where is the damned box?!.... I'm losing weight really well even with the sugary, frosted, not-so-goodness in my life. I'll probably just go and get me some frosted mini wheats to nosh on instead. Fewer artificial colors, more fiber, and totally more tasty.

I gotta get up and tend to my poor little, dog girl. Her fast ass pulled a runaway slave move and darted under the fence yesterday before I could chain her up. She came home and her ass was WHOOPED. I was so pissed at her. Her front leg is swollen and she cannot put any weight on her back leg. Yesterday she stayed in one spot all day long..*shaking my head* She's not gonna die, but she's pretty busted up.

I just need two more followers to get to 100. I know there are at least two of you out there who can  use a little index finger action and press "Follow". Its easy. You can do it. Pleeeeeeeease?


Sunday, May 15, 2011

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

VSG Surgery Courage and Strength

??1.6 I think I might possibly wake up with a new middle number in the morning....maybe.

Weight loss is weird. Some weeks you can do all of the right things and the scale will look you dead in the eye, spit in your face, and laugh at you. Other weeks, you wake up to a lower number on the scale for days on end. I have lost weight every single day since Friday. That hasn't happened for a long, long time. This is way better than wanting to hurl Bessie through the drywall.

But today's post really isn't about me. Its about a woman whose strength and courage you just have to see to believe. I am so honored to know her. I really just want you to click this link and tell me will you fight for life?

Monday, May 9, 2011

VSG surgery Bullying and Motivation

??3.6 Lowest weight to date 140.6 lbs lost to date

Last night, Bessie was calling me. I don't know why, maybe she knew I needed some good news that evening, but whatever the case I couldn't get the idea of weighing out of my head. So I stripped bucket naked *in my Bernie Mac voice*, headscarf and all and stepped on her. I NEVER weigh myself at night and I NEVER way myself bucket naked, so I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I did it anyway and was greeted with a number that was smaller than I ever could have expected. It shocked the shit out of me, so I jumped off the scale and then got back on convinced that it was a mistake.
Surely this BEST WEIGHT EVER would poof and disappear in a cloud of disappointment and defeated sighs. Surely the Evil Scale Genie would waft up from the scale like some school yard bully taunting and teasing me with a chorus of Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah's. Surely this could not be happening.
But it is. Yesterday and this morning....hmmmm.

MY goal, a goal I've set for myself, is so close. Not a goal based on some chart, or what the surgeon thinks I should weigh, or what anyone else thinks I should weigh, or what you weigh, or what has been extrapolated from the xy intersection of my starting weight divided by the square root of 2b-3ac and my zip code.


I've spent far too much of my life trying to conform to something that was never meant for me anyway. I didn't know any better, I thought I had to be that. I thought I had to be that because that's what They said. I didn't know that It was flawed, I thought I was. They told me I was all wrong.

In 6th grade my PE teacher Mrs. Stilley marched the entire class up on stage and made us weigh in one at time front of the everyone. Maybe she didn't know any better, maybe she did, but her motivation is of little consequence now. I know I got up on that scale and I was the biggest kid in the class

Elementary school in Anytown, USA
I will never forget how I felt that day
I will never forget the way I was belittled.
I will never forget how I felt that everything with my body was wrong.

When I see that picture of 6th grade me, I feel for that little girl. She was taller than the other kids, cute as hell, and nowhere near fat. But she thought she was. She felt too tall, too big, too fat, too smart, too Black, too different. I want to grab her and shake the shit out of her and tell her "You're okay just the way you are!!" And I need for her to hear Me and not They.....not Them. She has to listen to Me because she is Me. But how many times even now do I not listen to myself?

I'm listening to myself today-tomorrow I can't guarantee.
Today I am okay with being just the way that I am.

Friday, May 6, 2011

VSG surgery Overeating and Sick


First of all, I don't want to pen another blog post without thanking my new followers for being here. I get so excited every single time I get a new follower, so just know that you've made my week!

For the most part, I'm pretty good about the 30 minute before 30 minute after rule with eating. Sometimes, I don't wait 30 minutes after drinking to eat and most of the time I have no problem. I stick to the rules more often than not.
My cousins called me up yesterday and had free passes to a spot that had a free buffet so once I heard "free" and "buffet" you know my hungry ass was game. I'd been slacking on my protein and my water and since I had about a 30 minute drive to my dinner destination, I picked up a Muscle Milk and had it on the way. I drank it a little faster than usual and had a few productive burps on the way over there, but nothing to really alarm myself. I finished my Muscle Milk well before I arrived at my destination wiped off my milk mustache and kept on driving.

The buffet!!! Sho is purdy aint it?
Because the venue is normally a night a club, I was expecting the buffet to consist of a few limp fries, a few greasy, cold cheesesticks, you know nothing really appetizing. No sir! I was greeted by a buffet of pure epicness! Being the model wls person that I am (HA!), I picked out a couple of pieces of steak, a small portion of beef fajita meat with onions and peppers, few chicken wings and nothing else. I wolfed down two nugget sized peices of the steak and about 4 strips of the fajita meat like a feral wolf. I got full surprisingly fast off of just the meat, but I was like eh what the hell and had one of the wings.
Sleevie put his foot down and reminded me that I did in fact have anatomy altering surgery and while I can get away with not following the rules sometimes, he's still the the HBIC.
It felt like my food was multiplying in my stomach, some sort of freaky food mitosis gone horribly wrong. The meat was crawling up my esophagus trying to escape, but I kept swallowing it back down hoping that it would just get the idea and stay put. But the more I swallowed, the more the food rebelled. I swear it called in reinforcements cause there was even more pressure than before. It was a stretchy, acidy, pressure, a weird type of fullness that I'd never experienced. There was no way in HAYL I was gonna sit there feeling like that so I strutted my way to the bathroom (my shoes were fiyah) and made my way to the stall.
All I had to do was simply lean over the toilet and like a switch, it opened the floodgates. Sleevie enacted his eviction rights like that meat was 6 months late on rent and he was not playing around. It wasn't vomiting because there was none of the heaving, but it was still mighty unpleasant. Barely masticated meat with little liquid to lubricate it is a little rough on the food tube......don't go there.
Luckily, activating the pressure relief valve seemed to do the trick and within 20 minutes I was almost as good as new. Today I feel a little pressure and fullness (I've barely eaten a-ny-thing) but if that's what I owe for acting like an ass yesterday, that's just what it is. Sleevie's been letting me slide for a while.

What's the take home message kids? Nothing happens until it does.


Wednesday, May 4, 2011

VSG surgery Irritated and Water


I've been losing the fight to get my water in lately. Losing big time. I'm having a "water sucks" kinda of moment right now and I've really gotta get out of this slump. I'm also out of my beloved Premier Protein shakes and every one of those that I drink counts toward my hydration goals, too. I just gotta pimp slap myself and get back on track. When The Kid wakes up we're gonna walk to Sonic so that I can get me a Route 44 water and he can get him a "Black Drink". No, not a Nehi or Red Drank, not that kind of Black, but a Coca-Cola. I might as well feed him while I'm there, too. Nothing says loving like trans fats and toys made by 3 year old Malaysian kids. Their tiny fingers are just so nimble.

I am SOOOO grouchy today. I don't know what I need, but I know that what I'm doing now is not working. My house looks like an episode of Finder's Keepers. (yeah, how old am I)
I swear I'm NEVER gonna get below 200. (keep all muscle building comments to yourself)
Customer care people keep pissing me off.
Ants have invaded my house. I'm bout to ddt this joint. I really hope  PT doesn't want any more kids.
In my head I wanna eat pizza, but I know actually eating it isn't gonna be as good as the fantasy of pizza. I need my fantasy and reality to smash headfirst into one another with cheesy, stress reducing, deliciousness. I FUCKING need it......sigh

On top of that, I need a break from being an adult. Remember how when you were a kid, you couldn't wait to be grown and do whatever you wanted to do?! Being an adult seemed like the coolest thing ever.
That couldn't be further from the truth.
Mortgages suck. Bills suck. Kids with runny noses suck. Sick parents suck. It just sucks!
But since there are no hot tub time machines I will settle for generous benefactors with deep pockets and wire transfers to my bank account. Shopping and vacations will certainly be enough to make me feel better for a little while.
right now, I'm just gonna get The Kid, the dog, and get the hell outta this house.


Image: Suat Eman /

Monday, May 2, 2011

VSG surgery My Costco Chicken Salad Recipe

??6.0 Weight is pretty much what it has been.

I was perusing the refrigerated aisles at Costco the other day when I happened upon chicken salad that they make in house out of their rotisserie chicken. I picked it up and was about to put it into my basket but when I laid my eyes on the price tag, I put it right back. It was like 10 something which is fine for something I can't make myself ( like that divine tortilla crusted tilapia) but not for something I can whip together in my kitchen for half of the price. So I picked up a rotisserie chicken and made up my mind that I was gonna make my own chicken salad.

1 Costco Rotisserie Chicken
3-4 stalks of celery; diced
1/4 of a small onion; minced
1 1/4 cups of full fat mayonnaise
2 Tablespoons of lemon juice
10 sundried tomatoes; diced
8-10 packets of Truvia

Remove the meat from the entire chicken and cut  the meat into small pieces. When you're finished it place the meat and other ingredients into a large bowl and mix until well blended. It is easy, pretty fast to prepare, and you know exactly what's in it.

Keep in mind, this is MY recipe. We use full fat mayo in my house, and we always have. I've never jumped on the low fat train, but should you feel so inclined to use a lower fat option, go right ahead. I cannot guarantee deliciousness. In fact, I cannot guarantee that the chicken won't be so offended that the carcass won't get up and chase you around your house with a jar of the good shit in one hand and a butter knife in the other. I...just.....can't.

But I've got to get up and fix The Kid something for lunch and make some phone calls.


Waning Woman is sponsored by North Texas Bariatrics


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