Sarah,
Holler. Well, I have officially fallen off the wagon. Again. And you know what I think the two biggest reasons are? Alcohol and not having groceries in my house (excuse me, glorified shoebox). First I'll address your letter. February does suck. I have Nick, and I still hate stupid Valentine's Day. It doesn't mean anything. Just another excuse to eat "just one more" chocolate out of those tacky red hearts. 30% of those chocolates are disgusting, yet I still manage to shovel each and every one into my mouth (that's what she said), leaving the grossest ones for last. Patheticville. I understand your struggle with cheese. Even Velveeta, which shouldn't really count as cheese because let's be honest, it's closer to a block of salty Play-Doh than it is to real cheese. But I get it. It's delicious. And paired with ground beef and salsa. Come on. It's like a gift from the fat gods. I wouldn't have passed that up either. I will say this. The nice thing about living in San Francisco is that despite having really good Mexican food, cheese dip is not a big thing here. Some places have it, but it's nothing like the kind we get at Taqueria Del Sol or Taxco (RIP). At least that's one less temptation to overcome.
Now I need to address the bitch who called Michelle Obama fat. I'm sorry, but what part about that woman is flabby? Have you seen her arms? They're a lot like Jennifer Aniston's, who arguably, with the exception of maybe Halle Berry, has the best arms in Hollywood. Whoever said that should be kicked in the shins or the nuts, depending on that person's gender. Moving on to Khloe Kardashian. I think the girl deserves a break. Her face is ugly, and no matter how banging her body gets, she can't do anything about her face. I guess she could, but she'd run the risk of pulling a Heidi Montag. It's sad, really. She looks like one of the green pigs from Angry Birds. I believe that she's a size 6. Possibly an 8. Look at a recent picture of her and put your thumb over her face. It changes the way you see her. I could never handle being famous. Remember when that was our ultimate goal in life? Yeah, I don't think I could do it now. Even though some famous women manage to get away with being bigger, and people don't seem to bat an eye. Let's discuss.
Queen Latifah. Adele. Sherri Shepherd. Kathy Bates. Missy Elliot. Mo'Nique. A lot of these women are black. I think society accepts big black women more than big white women. That's not racist. It just seems like the truth of the matter. And let's get one thing straight. Marilyn Monroe would not have worn a size 13 today, and she wouldn't be considered fat. I hate when people act like she's the face of curvy women. False. The woman was a human Barbie Doll, and even now she'd be considered a bombshell. Do you think JFK or Joe DiMaggio would've tapped a fat chick? Absolutely not.
On a side note, I just witnessed a man piss on a car. These are the sights to look forward to when you come visit me. That's the fifth time I've seen someone urinate in public, and I'm told you "get used to it". I might not be here for too much longer though. I've been talking to some other agencies in LA and Chicago, which means long distance with Nick. That I'm not looking forward to. But that's another story for another day. I need to address the reasons I've screwed up my weight loss as of late.
The past two weeks I have been puppy sitting for a co-worker of Nick's. I missed my Weight Watchers meeting twice in a row because of that. I find that when I miss meetings, I am terrible about tracking. It's almost like I think I have a free pass to stuff my face or something. And that's pretty much what I've done. I haven't tracked, and I've eaten like shit. Yesterday Nick and I went to the Haight-Ashbury area and got brunch. Well, brunch turned into ice cream which turned into dinner and beer. Not light beer. Delicious hoppy beer. Don't get me wrong, it was an awesome day, but I just pushed health to the side. This is something I really need to work on. I know the game of starving yourself just so you'll lose weight. Obviously not starving yourself to the point of danger (I am not capable of becoming anorexic). I get that though. The rest of this week I'm going to have to live on fruits and veggies. Otherwise I don't have a chance in hell. I have to go to the meeting this week. I have no excuse. I have no dog to look after. I have no weight loss updates because I haven't weighed myself. For a weight loss blogger, I'm doing a pretty shitty job so far. At least I've been honest though. I need to go grocery shopping because I am really good about what goes into my body when I cook for myself. It's such a ridiculously obvious statement, but I still need to be reminded of that frequently.
Some setbacks I see coming up this week: Valentine's Day and Nick's and my two year anniversary. We celebrate the two together because we're not really sure when we actually started dating. We hooked up for a while before commitment set in. Can you believe I've been dating someone for this long? Who knew it was possible? I'm sure we'll be drinking, and alcohol lowers all inhibitions. Not just the ones that cause you to sleep with ugly people. Alcohol makes me eat things I normally wouldn't. Alcohol makes me eat quantities I normally wouldn't. So, that is something to be uber conscious of this week.
In boy band news, Jonathan Knight from NKOTB recently came out of the closet. I guess all I have to say about that is another one bites the dust. No, it's not a death sentence to be gay. I love the gays. I just feel threatened when male pop stars come out of the closet. Not because I'm weirded out by the lifestyle, but because now there's a 0% chance they will ever want to sleep with me. Remember what I said about the whole propositioning deal? I want them to want to sleep with me even though I can't. If they're gay then my chances go from one in a billion to zip. I don't like those odds. Luckily, my favorites still parade around as hetero. All of BSB (including Kevin, who still needs to sack up and go on tour), Justin Timberlake, Jordan Knight, and Jesse McCartney (post 90s boy bands, I know, but I think he still falls in line with the rest). I guess it's fair though. Growing up, Sam must have had huge crushes on them but never thought there was a chance. Well, now he has a choice of Lance Bass, Ricky Martin, Jonathan, and, although I hate to admit it, probably a lot more. Sam's boyfriend is hot though so he probably doesn't care about any of those guys' sexuality; however, if Nick Carter were to swing his way I'm sure he'd change his tune.
This has been a long post, so I'll end with my depressing motivation of the week: A homeless man called me a fatass after I ignored his plea for money. I went home and cried.
Talk to you soon,
Emily
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