The Ultimate Sweetener.

"The Ultimate Sweetener" more like The Ultimate Cleanser. The last time I felt like this was when I was tempted by those potato chips made with Olestra. Yeesh.

The can says, "Using excessively may cause a laxative effect." No shit. Well...

We made some lemonade with lemons, a pitcher of water, and 3/4 of a cup of The Ultimate Sweetener. It wasn't even that sweet. This stuff cannot be good for me if it makes my body do this. It's been over 6 hours now and my stomach is still gurgling. Sonofabiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch.

New 'Do.

Got myself a new haircut. Did a Google search for "short hair on fat women" and found the fat girls + short hair = YES! tumblr. I fell in love with this hair cut --> and went for it!! This, of course, is not me... just some adorable wee kid with an schweet hair cut and style.

When I was doing my search, I ran across some blogs that suggested that chubby chicks not get short cuts or trendy cuts for that matter. LOLWAT?! The style of your hair should have nothing to do with your weight, it's all about your inner rock-star self. We have a short time on this big rock hurling through space. LIVE!

Time to Unburry.

I will admit that for the last two years since I've been diagnosed with Lupus, I've buried my head in the sand about learning about it. It's fucking scary, Lupus, so it's totally understandable why I'd do that. I've been dealing with the very real chance of dying since 2004... holy crap... I just realized that it's been almost 10 years since my stroke (yep, I had a stroke). Ug, I'm all over the place. There's SO much that I want to get out of my head and into this blog.

BACK TO THE POINT

I ordered a book from Amazon this evening about eating to reduce inflammation. I think a lot of what I've been eating is bad for me. Of course it is, before Fat Camp I was eating fast food almost 3 times a day. I was so tired that I couldn't make food at the house. Unless you've got an autoimmune disease (or currently have the flu), you can say you know how that feels, but you really don't.

Fingers hurt. Can't type.

My New Roomie.

I have a girlfriend, let's call her Elle, who has been my partner in joining Weight Watchers at least a dozen times over the years. She's never been able to drop much weight, but she still keeps trying. About a month ago, we got a crazy idea in our heads that maybe it was time for drastic measures. I mean, here I am thinking about slicing open my body to remove a huge chunk of one of my organs, so I was willing to try anything.

She had just lost her job and was depressed about her future. The Mr and I had just bought a new (to us) car and could use some help to pay for it, so Elle and I decided to create Fat Camp. She moved into our spare bedroom (well, it was The Mr's man-cave) and since then we've re-joined Weight Watchers, started eating healthier, and have been making major changes to our overall health (spiritual, physical, emotional).

Yes, there have been a few bumps in the road, but overall it's been awesome. We've been able to talk about all of our eating issues (pft, more like subscriptions) and have been great sources of motivation for one another (from positive to wanting to beat the other's healthier way of living for bragging rights).

Edit: Dude. I just realized that I've already written about this. Perfect example of Lupus in action.

Part of Fat Camp is to write in our journals daily. Heh. You can see how I've been doing with that. Don't you judge me.

Fat Camp.

My throat hurts. I think it's from the window being open. That ain't right, man.

In other news, my friend and I have engaged in a project. Project Fat Camp. She's moved in for at least the next month and our job is to get healthy. Yah, we've still got to do other things (like pay the bills, feed the dog, life in general), but our JOB is to get healthy.

We've joined Weight Watchers (again), done the big shop, and will soon be planning more activity. This morning we were supposed to get up at the butt crack of dawn to go for a short walk. So far I'm the only one up. :/

I'm so frick'n tired right now. And throat-hurty. There's so much that I want to write about, but right now it all just seems so overwhelming. I know what I did last time was really successful, so I feel like I'm trying to do it all at once. Blogging is such a great outlet, but it all wants to come out at the same time, so my head is a jumbled mess.

Got to wake up the house. Fuckers. It's not fair that I'm up this goddamn early and they're dreaming of sugar plums. SUGAR PLUMS ARE FUCKING DELICIOUS!

Quarter Ton.

Holy crap: 251.5 lbs. WHAT?! A quarter of a ton. I'm only 5'3" (and 3/4ths). It ain't right.

Ug, I'm cramping. Have a hematology appointment in an hour. Should leave now in case of traffic. We're supposed to be taking me off of Coumadin and putting me on another blood thinner. I really want to go back on Xenical. That helped before, I think it can help again.

*Edit, 8 months later: evidently I have no idea how many pounds are in a ton (or tonne for that matter) because although it is a lot for my height, 250 lbs is not a quarter of a ton. Pardon my ignorance, but I'm not going to change it because the drama of it is spectacular!

Little cuts.

I want to hide it all. The evidence.

Seeing the fast food cups strewn around my house is like seeing the bullet casings of a drive-by shooting. Death by drive-through.