When I turned fifty some friends and I went to Vancouver B.C. to celebrate . Vancouver is where I discovered coffee cream. It is a delicious blend of half & half and heavy cream. So, of course I have used it since then almost every day. Until this diet thing.
Now here I sit sipping my herbal tea instead of my coffee. My coffee that I used to put plenty of coffee cream into. I am not bitter, well not much anyway. I just came home from a trip to Seattle to visit family. I love Seattle. If I could I would move there . Unfortunately the Seattle that I love is the Seattle of gentle rain with the sun breaking thru the clouds ending in a glorious sunset. Not the real Seattle that up until the end of July had a whopping seventy some odd MINUTES of summer. I had a wonderful time. Went out on a boat & we- I say we because I sat holding my seat with both hands while the owner of the boat and my cousin pulled up both crab pots - we got a bunch and I do mean a bunch of crabs. They were Dungeness. We had crab for lunch. With melted butter. It was heaven. The only sound that could be heard once the crabs were out of the cooker was the crunching of shell and the slurping of fingers covered in butter and crabmeat. Maybe a few soft belches now and again. We had crab for dinner the following evening, same scenario only this was indoors, and with wine. And dessert. Have you ever had dark cherry ice cream? The taste of it is so wonderful it almost drowns out the little voices in your head asking you just what the hell are you doing. What really drowns those voices is a good DVD and a couple of whiskey gingers. When I left for Seattle I was dancing around the room because I had lost three (count ‘em 3!!!) pounds. I had this under control now! I knew just what to do to get that tonnage OFF. I could look a chocolate éclair in the eye and say “HAH. Don’t want you so there”. Which is only half true. The hah part. When I returned from Seattle those three pounds had shrunk to one. And the waist on my pants had shrunk as well. Ah me.
So now I am on a very strict diet. It’s supposed to retrain my metabolism into believing that I am not in starvation mode. . . . . Really? Have ya seen my thighs? This butt. . . Starvation? I mean come on !! So for the last week I have been eating five cups of vegetables a day. I have also been drinking five protein shakes a day. But wait there’s more !! I get one frozen diet meal a day!!! And all the water I can get down. Whew !! Who knew?
I am off to the Dr. in a few days to see just how much I have lost (PULEEEZE GOD!!!!). And we will take it from there. Please keep all appendages crossed for me. I am waaaayyy to old for this !!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Here I Am…
And here I am again at the bad place. The place of pain and humiliation. The dreaded gym. I am here on this perfect holiday, this day of bar-b-que’s and firecrackers. Parades and red, white and blue bunting as far as the eye can see because I, well to put it bluntly, screwed up.
My dear friend had a bar-b-que yesterday. It was an early celebration of our nation and also a goodbye feast for her sister before she returns to North Africa. I made pasta salad, it was a request. I (apparently) make a killer pasta salad. We arrived about 3pm and the food was to be served within a short time.
So there were appetizers. Chips and dip and salsa and that whip cream fruit thing with the coconut, and fudge. Home-made fudge. No nuts because my friends hubby is allergic to nuts. Humph - who said he had to have any? I mean it kinda sacrilegious to not have walnuts in fudge you know?
And so there I was being a good girl with my three quarters of a cup of Cheerios and one half cup of skim milk under my belt. Boy howdy I was sure gonna be a good girl. No food before I got there because I knew I would have at least one small hamburger and - of course - my pasta salad, and I left room for a few small, teeny, itsy bitsy bites of fruit, or something like that. That was the dream - then reality reared its ugly head in the form of Ruffles potato chips.
I was fine. I was chatting with one of the other guests sitting at the indoor table when I just happened to look to my left and noticed there was a bag of Ruffles sitting just to the left of my hand. It was like one of those mystical things. You know, like you never see the crack in the wall until someone points it out to you and now all you can see is the stupid crack in the wall! Well that’s how it was. I was continuing to talk and smile and nod but I have no idea what was being said. I kept eyeballing that bag of chips. The really weird thing is that every time I looked at it. . . . . . It was closer to my hand. Suddenly my hand was inside the bag. I have no idea how it got there!!! I swear I didn’t move my hand and wow now there were chips in front of me on a paper plate that I have no idea where it came from and then . . . . .
I was eating chips. It started off slow. Just one small one. Then I found a folded chip. I have always heard that the folded chips have more flavor, so I scarfed that one down and pretty soon I was alone at the table. Just me and the 2lb bag-o-chips. I had no idea of time passing until I heard a burst of laughter from the back yard and found that I had chips in both hands.
I gently put the chips down, dusted my hands off, and pushed the hair away from my face (I hate to admit this but I had chip crumbles in my hair). I folded the bag and walked it into the kitchen and left it there.
On my way back to the table (people were starting to drift in again, I guess the grunting shooed them away, heh) I noticed the whip cream , coconut fruit thing. OOOOOOO!!!! Nummy!! I grabbed a plate and got a small portion (half the size of my head) and a nibble (if your really want to call it that) of my infamous pasta salad. This was all I was going to eat and because of my small indiscretion I would only eat half of a hamburger. A dry hamburger -- with no condiments. I had to give up something didn’t I?
I took my time eating the whip cream coconut fruity thing. Not because I wanted to but because an annoying person at the table kept asking me questions and insisted that I answer them. I was asked for my opinion on several topics. I answered politely but in my head there was a constant stream of “CAN YOU NOT SEE I AM EATING YOU SILLY FOOL? I NEED THIS SO BACK OFF !! ONE MORE QUESTION AND I WILL POP!! WHY I OUGHTTA. . .” and soon I was finished with all the food on the paper plate. I scraped the last of it off with my plastic fork just in time for the fudge to be placed in front of me. UH OH.
Home-made creamy fudge. No nuts as I said before but fudge. Chocolate f u d g e. It was cut in small pieces so I thought to my self “one piece, just one piece and I will wait for the burgers to be done”. I won’t bore you with the details, no I did not lick the plate, but I put away a hefty chunk.
Now to just wait for the burgers (small belch here). Just a waitin’ for the boigers . . . (bigger belch here). Just gonna sit and wait for the . . . . Oh goody they’re done!!!
Did you ever walk up to a task with the absolute knowledge of how it was to be carried out? Well I did just that. I walked right up to that buffet table knowing that I was going to have a dry well done burger and eat only half of it. I walked away from that table with a burger that I had no physical way to fit my mouth around.
I got it back to the table with a sheepish look on my face and an “oh well what’s a girl to do” attitude. The small voice in my head that kept reminding me that I was to have only half of a dry burger was reduced to a small whimper by the resounding shout of “oh yeah baby!!” (still in my head of course).
Hours later, after the table games were over and we were packing up to leave, I realized that I could barely breathe and that waddle walk had started again. Damn.
So here I am punching the start button on the torture device also known as a treadmill and wondering why would it be so hard to figure out how to make a pair of earphones that do not tangle into horrific knots the minute they leave your hands. I nod at the - of course - beautiful slim Asian girl next to be, a new different one. I congratulate my self on being cordial to the girl at the front desk - she is a single digit size, under a size 8 I am sure. As the treadmill belt begins to move I start my ipod. The first strains of Brickhouse by the Commodores fills my ears and I think to myself “ soon, not this minute but soon I will be . . . . . Mighty.”
My dear friend had a bar-b-que yesterday. It was an early celebration of our nation and also a goodbye feast for her sister before she returns to North Africa. I made pasta salad, it was a request. I (apparently) make a killer pasta salad. We arrived about 3pm and the food was to be served within a short time.
So there were appetizers. Chips and dip and salsa and that whip cream fruit thing with the coconut, and fudge. Home-made fudge. No nuts because my friends hubby is allergic to nuts. Humph - who said he had to have any? I mean it kinda sacrilegious to not have walnuts in fudge you know?
And so there I was being a good girl with my three quarters of a cup of Cheerios and one half cup of skim milk under my belt. Boy howdy I was sure gonna be a good girl. No food before I got there because I knew I would have at least one small hamburger and - of course - my pasta salad, and I left room for a few small, teeny, itsy bitsy bites of fruit, or something like that. That was the dream - then reality reared its ugly head in the form of Ruffles potato chips.
I was fine. I was chatting with one of the other guests sitting at the indoor table when I just happened to look to my left and noticed there was a bag of Ruffles sitting just to the left of my hand. It was like one of those mystical things. You know, like you never see the crack in the wall until someone points it out to you and now all you can see is the stupid crack in the wall! Well that’s how it was. I was continuing to talk and smile and nod but I have no idea what was being said. I kept eyeballing that bag of chips. The really weird thing is that every time I looked at it. . . . . . It was closer to my hand. Suddenly my hand was inside the bag. I have no idea how it got there!!! I swear I didn’t move my hand and wow now there were chips in front of me on a paper plate that I have no idea where it came from and then . . . . .
I was eating chips. It started off slow. Just one small one. Then I found a folded chip. I have always heard that the folded chips have more flavor, so I scarfed that one down and pretty soon I was alone at the table. Just me and the 2lb bag-o-chips. I had no idea of time passing until I heard a burst of laughter from the back yard and found that I had chips in both hands.
I gently put the chips down, dusted my hands off, and pushed the hair away from my face (I hate to admit this but I had chip crumbles in my hair). I folded the bag and walked it into the kitchen and left it there.
On my way back to the table (people were starting to drift in again, I guess the grunting shooed them away, heh) I noticed the whip cream , coconut fruit thing. OOOOOOO!!!! Nummy!! I grabbed a plate and got a small portion (half the size of my head) and a nibble (if your really want to call it that) of my infamous pasta salad. This was all I was going to eat and because of my small indiscretion I would only eat half of a hamburger. A dry hamburger -- with no condiments. I had to give up something didn’t I?
I took my time eating the whip cream coconut fruity thing. Not because I wanted to but because an annoying person at the table kept asking me questions and insisted that I answer them. I was asked for my opinion on several topics. I answered politely but in my head there was a constant stream of “CAN YOU NOT SEE I AM EATING YOU SILLY FOOL? I NEED THIS SO BACK OFF !! ONE MORE QUESTION AND I WILL POP!! WHY I OUGHTTA. . .” and soon I was finished with all the food on the paper plate. I scraped the last of it off with my plastic fork just in time for the fudge to be placed in front of me. UH OH.
Home-made creamy fudge. No nuts as I said before but fudge. Chocolate f u d g e. It was cut in small pieces so I thought to my self “one piece, just one piece and I will wait for the burgers to be done”. I won’t bore you with the details, no I did not lick the plate, but I put away a hefty chunk.
Now to just wait for the burgers (small belch here). Just a waitin’ for the boigers . . . (bigger belch here). Just gonna sit and wait for the . . . . Oh goody they’re done!!!
Did you ever walk up to a task with the absolute knowledge of how it was to be carried out? Well I did just that. I walked right up to that buffet table knowing that I was going to have a dry well done burger and eat only half of it. I walked away from that table with a burger that I had no physical way to fit my mouth around.
I got it back to the table with a sheepish look on my face and an “oh well what’s a girl to do” attitude. The small voice in my head that kept reminding me that I was to have only half of a dry burger was reduced to a small whimper by the resounding shout of “oh yeah baby!!” (still in my head of course).
Hours later, after the table games were over and we were packing up to leave, I realized that I could barely breathe and that waddle walk had started again. Damn.
So here I am punching the start button on the torture device also known as a treadmill and wondering why would it be so hard to figure out how to make a pair of earphones that do not tangle into horrific knots the minute they leave your hands. I nod at the - of course - beautiful slim Asian girl next to be, a new different one. I congratulate my self on being cordial to the girl at the front desk - she is a single digit size, under a size 8 I am sure. As the treadmill belt begins to move I start my ipod. The first strains of Brickhouse by the Commodores fills my ears and I think to myself “ soon, not this minute but soon I will be . . . . . Mighty.”
Friday, July 1, 2011
Oh My Dear God
I really never thought I would be doing this again. By this I mean jumping on the “I gotta get this weight off” bandwagon. I have watched with all the other mid-life women as one celebrity after another drops dozens of pounds in a “if I can do it anybody can do it” frenzy. I was very comfortable in my -stretchy pants I really don’t look that bad my God look at whatshername she looks like she ate an entire restaurant- attitude. Then I looked in the mirror. I mean really looked. Not just at my face or from the shoulders up and not just at my bathroom mirror. I took a long look at the woman I had become. I have never been rail thin. I have had my ups and downs with weight. I too hired a Nazi cheerleader trainer and managed to lose about 30lbs till the little snot got promoted and couldn’t train me anymore. No one seemed worth it after that. I have also had my fair share of health problems, with surgeries, right & wrong medications, and Dr.’s that should have “practiced “ just a little bit harder before I went to see them. So when I looked in the mirror I saw what I had truly become, a pudgy, frumpy, 50 something out of shap. Just another one of those “I’ll do it someday, I swear I will be in a 10 before you know it” ladies that just ate what she needed till she couldn’t breathe.
I briefly threw around the thought of one of the dozen or so weight loss surgeries and quickly decided that - that was way too much pain for me. Also I really can’t afford the bazillion dollars it would cost me out of pocket as I am currently unemployed. Heh.
So there I was signing on with a weight loss online program and logging every morsel I put into my mouth. I weighed only once a week because I knew that to weigh every day would be defeating. The first time I got on the scales I looked down and felt just a little dizzy. REALLY ???? I mean really !??!?! Did I really weigh that much????? Ok. I can handle this I took a deep breath and told myself that I am doing something about it. I will never have to see this number on the scale again -- I mean that is what they say on the biggest loser . . . Right? Ok, well off we go. I began walking to a structured walking program that suggested every other day, at least three times a week. I did it four times a week. I knew that I was doing good for myself. I was making a difference in my life I was GOING to do it this time. I had no doubt. So when it came to the big day I was ready. I was going to weigh in for the first week on the plan. I wondered what it would be 5lbs? Maybe. At least 3lbs. I mean I gave up all kinds of my regular foods -- I mean I gave up In and Out for God’s sake!! I stepped on the scale looked straight ahead and took a deep breath looked down and saw . . . . . . . Half a pound. HALF A FREAKING POUND??????? I GAVE UP IN AND OUT FOR HALF A FREAKING POUND????????????
I was dumfounded. I was amazed - I kept thinking that they dropped 30 and 40lbs in the first week on the biggest loser !! Okay so they were a tad larger than me - 150lbs or so- and they worked out a little bit more - 5 to 8 hours per day. SERIOUSLY ??? 5-8 hours . . . EVERY DAY???? Okay be that as it may I was only hoping for two lousy pounds. And I didn’t even get one. Sigh.
Alrighty then. I was not going to let this defeat me. I went back to the regime. Every thing that went in my mouth was logged online. I decided to keep up the walking routine. I was going to increase it for week two to get it into high gear. I was determined to get it done this time. I logged all my exercise as well.
I was single minded about this. I cut down on coffee (dangerous I know but I was going to do it dammit!!) I stopped drinking diet sodas (another sketchy move but oh well). I increased my vegetable and fruit intake. I decreased my fat and carb intake. Only “good” carbs for me (weren’t they all good? They all tasted good). I told myself every morning as I eyed the evil scale that I would prevail. I am an intelligent woman and I can do this. I am a wee bit older now so it might be a bit more difficult than in the past but I would prevail !!!!
So the big day came at last. As I approached the scale, after using the facilities in the bathroom and stripping down completely and letting all the air out of my body, I stepped on the scale- refusing to inhale until the scale read my weight, knowing, KNOWING that it would make me smile I looked down.
Well it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t even nice. It was the same. It hadn’t changed. At. All. It did not go down AT ALL.
I forgot to inhale and black dots swirled round my vision as I stepped off the scale. I couldn’t make a sound. Until I took a breath. Then the air in the bathroom turned blue. The dog hid. The birds flew off the wire outside of my house. I think the ground shook. I know I was almost coherent when I took the stance of Scarlet O’Hara in “Gone With the Wind “ and raised my fists to the heavens and growled thru clenched teeth “ as God as my witness I shall never go hungry again”!!!!! And off I went to the kitchen. It gets a little foggy here. I came to with crumbs down the front of me and the door to the refrigerator propped open with an empty ice cream carton. Don’t judge me you know you have been there too!
Anyway, The family gathering that was scheduled for that weekend to celebrate a revered Uncle’s birthday came to mind. I had previously thought (HA) that I would bring my own food, and just nibble the wonders of my cousin Tom’s cooking. Not now. It was two days later that I picked my niece (the chef) up at the airport and drove her to Tom’s house. On the way we stopped for dinner at . . . . . . . In and Out!!!! I swear I heard Angles singing.
The next four days were a blur of fun family time and INCREDIBLE Lebanese food!! I ate enough to feed a small village. I went back to diet sodas and coffee (YUM). I took my cousin Jules to the airport on the following Monday as the family scattered back to the four winds again and thought -- I still need to remove some tonnage. Jules was kind enough to show me a picture of myself, our mutual friend Anne and herself at her fiftieth birthday party. I was the one that resembled a blimp. I swear all I needed was a string around my ankle and Goodyear painted on my side. So heaving a big sigh the next morning I climbed back on the evil scale of Satan and saw that I had gained 2.5lbs. Defeat slumped my shoulders (not a good look for me at this age).
The next morning found me at the Gym. I hate the gym. It hates me back. It makes me feel uncomfortable and clumsy. I see the teeny tiny girls at the front desk that check you in and I want to hold them down and make them eat at least a dozen cupcakes. I want to see just the teeniest muffin somewhere near their tops. I want to be them only 30 years older.
At the gym I climb onto the treadmill. Who’s bright idea was it to make it about 14 inches off the ground?? That’s just cruel. I make the old lady sound (uhhh!!) just climbing up on the damn thing. I then proceed to try to figure out how the stupid thing works. Ummm. The start button is always a good choice. As the treadmill starts up at its 1.5 mph I try to figure out how to walk and put my earbuds in and turn on my ipod so I don’ t know where I am or what I’m doing. Fat chance. I juggle the ipod down the front of me much to the amusement of the Asian girl next to me. I am tempted to ask her why she is there as she is dropdead gorgeous and has obviously never been even half a freaking pound overweight. Then it dawns on me that she is there so she is not me in 30 years.
I throw my shoulders back and catch my ipod just as it teeters on the edge of the shelf that is made for bottles of water and such and punch up the speed on my treadmill. Thirty minutes later I am sweaty, my legs are shaky, and I am wondering how I am going to get off the stupid treadmill without falling on my face in front of all of the people in this now crowded gym. They have, of course, placed the treadmills close together so I have to step down in between mine and the beautiful Asian girl’s, who is now running, with the angle of the treadmill at about 3%. Showoff.
I make it down and don’t make a fool out of myself (thank you God). As I hobble out of the gym the perky little thing behind the desk tells me to have a good day. Peachy.
And so begins my saga. We will see where this goes, and how far I go. Keep your fingers crossed -- I just want to lose 3lbs to start with. (please GOD) and I promise I won’t ask to be a 10. Maybe a 10-12?
I briefly threw around the thought of one of the dozen or so weight loss surgeries and quickly decided that - that was way too much pain for me. Also I really can’t afford the bazillion dollars it would cost me out of pocket as I am currently unemployed. Heh.
So there I was signing on with a weight loss online program and logging every morsel I put into my mouth. I weighed only once a week because I knew that to weigh every day would be defeating. The first time I got on the scales I looked down and felt just a little dizzy. REALLY ???? I mean really !??!?! Did I really weigh that much????? Ok. I can handle this I took a deep breath and told myself that I am doing something about it. I will never have to see this number on the scale again -- I mean that is what they say on the biggest loser . . . Right? Ok, well off we go. I began walking to a structured walking program that suggested every other day, at least three times a week. I did it four times a week. I knew that I was doing good for myself. I was making a difference in my life I was GOING to do it this time. I had no doubt. So when it came to the big day I was ready. I was going to weigh in for the first week on the plan. I wondered what it would be 5lbs? Maybe. At least 3lbs. I mean I gave up all kinds of my regular foods -- I mean I gave up In and Out for God’s sake!! I stepped on the scale looked straight ahead and took a deep breath looked down and saw . . . . . . . Half a pound. HALF A FREAKING POUND??????? I GAVE UP IN AND OUT FOR HALF A FREAKING POUND????????????
I was dumfounded. I was amazed - I kept thinking that they dropped 30 and 40lbs in the first week on the biggest loser !! Okay so they were a tad larger than me - 150lbs or so- and they worked out a little bit more - 5 to 8 hours per day. SERIOUSLY ??? 5-8 hours . . . EVERY DAY???? Okay be that as it may I was only hoping for two lousy pounds. And I didn’t even get one. Sigh.
Alrighty then. I was not going to let this defeat me. I went back to the regime. Every thing that went in my mouth was logged online. I decided to keep up the walking routine. I was going to increase it for week two to get it into high gear. I was determined to get it done this time. I logged all my exercise as well.
I was single minded about this. I cut down on coffee (dangerous I know but I was going to do it dammit!!) I stopped drinking diet sodas (another sketchy move but oh well). I increased my vegetable and fruit intake. I decreased my fat and carb intake. Only “good” carbs for me (weren’t they all good? They all tasted good). I told myself every morning as I eyed the evil scale that I would prevail. I am an intelligent woman and I can do this. I am a wee bit older now so it might be a bit more difficult than in the past but I would prevail !!!!
So the big day came at last. As I approached the scale, after using the facilities in the bathroom and stripping down completely and letting all the air out of my body, I stepped on the scale- refusing to inhale until the scale read my weight, knowing, KNOWING that it would make me smile I looked down.
Well it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t even nice. It was the same. It hadn’t changed. At. All. It did not go down AT ALL.
I forgot to inhale and black dots swirled round my vision as I stepped off the scale. I couldn’t make a sound. Until I took a breath. Then the air in the bathroom turned blue. The dog hid. The birds flew off the wire outside of my house. I think the ground shook. I know I was almost coherent when I took the stance of Scarlet O’Hara in “Gone With the Wind “ and raised my fists to the heavens and growled thru clenched teeth “ as God as my witness I shall never go hungry again”!!!!! And off I went to the kitchen. It gets a little foggy here. I came to with crumbs down the front of me and the door to the refrigerator propped open with an empty ice cream carton. Don’t judge me you know you have been there too!
Anyway, The family gathering that was scheduled for that weekend to celebrate a revered Uncle’s birthday came to mind. I had previously thought (HA) that I would bring my own food, and just nibble the wonders of my cousin Tom’s cooking. Not now. It was two days later that I picked my niece (the chef) up at the airport and drove her to Tom’s house. On the way we stopped for dinner at . . . . . . . In and Out!!!! I swear I heard Angles singing.
The next four days were a blur of fun family time and INCREDIBLE Lebanese food!! I ate enough to feed a small village. I went back to diet sodas and coffee (YUM). I took my cousin Jules to the airport on the following Monday as the family scattered back to the four winds again and thought -- I still need to remove some tonnage. Jules was kind enough to show me a picture of myself, our mutual friend Anne and herself at her fiftieth birthday party. I was the one that resembled a blimp. I swear all I needed was a string around my ankle and Goodyear painted on my side. So heaving a big sigh the next morning I climbed back on the evil scale of Satan and saw that I had gained 2.5lbs. Defeat slumped my shoulders (not a good look for me at this age).
The next morning found me at the Gym. I hate the gym. It hates me back. It makes me feel uncomfortable and clumsy. I see the teeny tiny girls at the front desk that check you in and I want to hold them down and make them eat at least a dozen cupcakes. I want to see just the teeniest muffin somewhere near their tops. I want to be them only 30 years older.
At the gym I climb onto the treadmill. Who’s bright idea was it to make it about 14 inches off the ground?? That’s just cruel. I make the old lady sound (uhhh!!) just climbing up on the damn thing. I then proceed to try to figure out how the stupid thing works. Ummm. The start button is always a good choice. As the treadmill starts up at its 1.5 mph I try to figure out how to walk and put my earbuds in and turn on my ipod so I don’ t know where I am or what I’m doing. Fat chance. I juggle the ipod down the front of me much to the amusement of the Asian girl next to me. I am tempted to ask her why she is there as she is dropdead gorgeous and has obviously never been even half a freaking pound overweight. Then it dawns on me that she is there so she is not me in 30 years.
I throw my shoulders back and catch my ipod just as it teeters on the edge of the shelf that is made for bottles of water and such and punch up the speed on my treadmill. Thirty minutes later I am sweaty, my legs are shaky, and I am wondering how I am going to get off the stupid treadmill without falling on my face in front of all of the people in this now crowded gym. They have, of course, placed the treadmills close together so I have to step down in between mine and the beautiful Asian girl’s, who is now running, with the angle of the treadmill at about 3%. Showoff.
I make it down and don’t make a fool out of myself (thank you God). As I hobble out of the gym the perky little thing behind the desk tells me to have a good day. Peachy.
And so begins my saga. We will see where this goes, and how far I go. Keep your fingers crossed -- I just want to lose 3lbs to start with. (please GOD) and I promise I won’t ask to be a 10. Maybe a 10-12?
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